Finishing Touches
by L. Greene
Summary: AU! While L.K. Norse, known to his friends as Gabriel Speight, starts on his second novel, his almost-fianceé leaves him and he loses his muse. Enter Sam Winchester, who just may hold the key to getting back on track - with both his novel and his life. M for language, sexual content, and references to suicide. Sabriel, established Destiel.
1. Chapter 1

Gabriel left his agent's office shortly after four. Roché had wanted to discuss Gabriel's progress on his next novel (which was coming along fairly well) and the interview he was scheduled to have two days later with a major magazine (they "absolutely had to have" the newest New York Times Bestselling Author for a feature). Gabriel wasn't sure he wanted to actually do the interview (he found it generally threw off his writing process), but Roché was sure, so he went with it. Roché was typically right.

Tonight was his three-year anniversary, and he wanted to be home a little earlier. He had a nice, romantic evening planned—he was going to try his hand at actually making dinner for once (at the risk of burning down the apartment building) and he was picking up a carton of Moose Tracks ice cream. He couldn't wait to get home, even though he would probably end up embarrassing himself when it came to making dinner. But the best part was going to be after.

He was going to ask Kali to marry him.

He hadn't told anyone, of course—not Roché, not even his best friend Castiel. It was going to be a big surprise for everyone. He was looking forward to seeing their faces. They'd probably think he was fucking with him—he had a trickster streak a mile wide—but when they realized he was serious, their expressions would be priceless.

His first stop was Nino's for everything he needed to make a halfway-decent Italian dinner (even though neither of them were Italian, they both had a liking for it) and to pick up his ice cream. He loved sweet stuff and always had candy hidden in random drawers of the apartment and ice cream in the freezer. Then he went to the jewelry store to pick up the ring. He'd ordered it several weeks before, but he had them hold it until today because he didn't want it to get lost or stolen.

It wasn't until he actually got to hold the ring that it really sank in. He was actually about to get engaged. He couldn't help grinning—a few years ago, he would have never expected it, but here he was, only hours away. It was strange, but he was excited.

An hour and a half after leaving Roché's office, he let himself into his apartment and went straight for the kitchen, grocery bags in hand. "Kali?" he called, setting the bags on the counter. He patted down his pockets quickly to make absolutely sure he had the ring.

There was no response, which was strange. He hadn't even seen her this morning, but he knew she was back from her studio by now. She was a painter and he was used to her keeping odd hours—taking off in the middle of the night or not coming home for two or three days at a time—but she always called if she wasn't going to be home that night, and she hadn't called today.

He assumed it was a given that she'd be home tonight, of all nights, though.

Gabriel went into the living room and saw Kali sitting on the sofa, her back to him. She seemed tense, sitting up straighter than usual. "Kali?" he asked softly. He suddenly had the feeling that something was really wrong.

She finally turned, standing up. She was actually an inch or two taller than him—he was only five-eight, and that was a rounded-up estimate—but he didn't typically notice it. He did now, though. "Hi, Gabriel. How was your day?"

"It was fine—what's going on?"

She gave a small sigh, looking like she wanted to be anywhere but right there. "We have to talk."

"About what? Honey, what's going on?"

Her expression shifted from uncomfortable to resigned. "I'm leaving you," she said bluntly.

Disbelief flooded through him. She _had_ to be joking.

But as he waited for her to laugh, to say that she was just fucking with him, her look never shifted. She was serious. "I… I don't understand."

Rolling her eyes a bit, she said, "It's over, Gabriel. You and me. We're done."

His hold on his calm exterior was slipping. "Why tonight, of all nights? You couldn't do this last night, or last week, for that matter?"

She looked puzzled. "What's tonight?"

_Are you fucking kidding me?_ "You can't be serious."

"I'm sorry, Gabriel, but I honestly fail to see today's significance."

_Oh, my God. _He felt like she'd punched him in the stomach. "Our anniversary," he murmured, running his fingers through his halo of long, golden-blond hair. He turned away, suddenly feeling like an idiot.

Where the Hell had all this come from? Ten minutes ago, he was the happiest guy in the world, so certain that he was going to be engaged tonight. Ten minutes ago, everything was fine. Hell, nothing about her demeanor had really changed. There had been nothing to indicate how tonight would end.

He'd been blindsided.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel. I didn't remember."

_No shit, you didn't remember._ "Why now?" he asked suddenly, spinning back around. "What changed between us? I thought things were going great. I thought…" _I thought you'd say yes._

She sighed, crossing her arms. "We're at two different places in our lives. You're ready to settle down—aren't you?" She looked pointedly at his jeans pocket. "You were going to propose tonight, weren't you?"

He swallowed hard and nodded.

"I'm not ready for that. Not yet."

"That's fine—I can wait." There was a note of desperation in his voice. "I'm perfectly fine with waiting until you're ready." He knew he was grasping at straws, that when her mind was made up, nothing could change it, but he couldn't stop himself from begging. Three years they'd been together, and after all that time, he couldn't let it just fall apart. Not like this. It couldn't end like this. "Please, don't…" His voice trailed off. It was futile. She had that look on her face, that one when they fought that said _I'm right and you're wrong and there's nothing you can say to convince me otherwise_. Numbly, he went back to the kitchen.

She didn't follow him, which was okay with him. He didn't know what else there was to say.

Gabriel lifted the carton of ice cream out of the bag and slid it in the freezer. The carton was getting soft and he didn't want melted ice cream all over the kitchen floor. It would be just another mess he wasn't sure he had the strength to clean up. Then he started in on the other perishables in the grocery bags, but halfway through, he was struck by the futility of it. His plans for dinner were fucked. He had no strength to try to throw together a home-cooked meal now.

He ran his fingers through his hair again before bracing his hands on the counter. He didn't have the strength for anything anymore.

"I already moved my things out," Kali's voice said behind him. He didn't turn to meet her eyes. "I paid this month's and next month's rent. Consider it reparations."

Cold shock and devastation stabbed into his chest. "You already found somewhere else to live?" he half-asked, still staring straight ahead.

"Yes."

"How long have you been planning this?"

"About a month."

He was gutted. "Oh," he said softly.

There was the sound of keys clacking as she fished them out of her purse and laid them on the table. It was the sound of the last three years of his life going out the window.

"Kali—" he started, finally turning around to face her, but he stopped when he saw her expression.

"Just don't. Don't make this any more difficult than it has to be."

"Kali, please." _Please don't leave me. Please don't do this. Don't walk out that door._ "I can't…" Kali Gupta was everything to him, everything he needed in his life. She was snarky and stubborn and brilliant and creative and understood his crazy writer's mood swings and now she was walking out of his life. He knew he looked like a fucking mess, his golden-green eyes red and shining with tears, his hair standing on end from running his fingers through it a hundred times, but he couldn't care. "I just can't—"

"Gabriel. Stop. Just stop." She crossed her arms again. "There isn't anything you can say to change my mind. I've given this a great deal of thought, and to be honest, your behavior is just indicating that I made the right choice."

She might as well have slapped him. "My be—_three years, Kali_! Three years! I love you and I'm trying to keep you from making a huge mistake! We've been together for _three years_! I just can't let that go. I can't let _you_ go. I can't just give this up. Please, you know I'd do anything for you. It doesn't have to end like this." But he knew, just like a few minutes ago, that it was useless.

Kali looked at him for a few moments, a mixture of pity and disgust on her face, before sighing. "You're going to make someone happy one day. Just not me." With those parting words, she walked out the door.

He didn't realize he was falling until his knees slammed into the floor. _No, no, no, no!_ He tried to summon the strength to pick himself up and run after her, but he couldn't. He gasped, falling back against the counter and pulling his knees to his chest.

The tears came now, spilling down his cheeks, and he grabbed his hair. Heart pounding, he opened his mouth to cry or scream or sob out her name or _something_—but his voice refused to cooperate. All that came out was a wrecked sort of gasp, a dry sound of nothing left.

There was nothing. He couldn't breathe—every time he inhaled, it felt like the air didn't make it to his lungs. His heart was breaking, cracks crisscrossing through it, spiderwebs of emptiness threatening to shatter him. She was gone, really gone, and he knew—he just knew—that she wasn't coming home.

"Please," he whimpered, staring at the doorway as if that one word could somehow bring her back.

But it couldn't. It was over.

* * *

***slits wrists* OH MY GOD POOR GABRIEL I JUST CAN'T OKAY.**

**So this fic was inspired by my own battles with writer's block (which hasn't come up yet, but it will). The title is subject to change. It used to be "The Flourishes of My Former Life" but that seemed a bit like I was having delusions of grandeur or something. If you have any other ideas, let me know!**

**Not sure how long this will be yet - it's looking like it'll be about 20 chapters right now, but it may end up being longer. Who knows? (I want more than one Sabriel scene! In _Pilot Light_, all the pairings just get one really smutty full-on sex scene, and I think this one needs more.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Everything belongs to Kripke.**

* * *

Gabriel reread what he'd been writing for the past month and almost smacked his head on the keyboard in frustration. _What. The. Hell._ Suddenly, everything he'd been trying to say had just evaporated. His burn to write was gone.

_Fuck._ He stared at his computer screen for ten more minutes before giving up with a sigh and closing his laptop. He had to go see Roché soon anyway, so getting there early couldn't hurt.

Feeling lost, he grabbed his leather jacket, slid it on, and felt around in the pockets to make sure he had his keys. Kali's set was still on the table where she'd left them the night before. He wasn't able to bring himself to put them away. It would mean accepting that she wouldn't need them anymore, that she wasn't coming back.

He walked down the hall and to the elevator, pushing the down arrow and waiting. Every second dragged by longer and longer until it seemed like he would be waiting here forever—but then, mercifully, the elevator _ding_ed and the doors slid open. He hit the button for the lobby and slumped against the wall of the mercifully-empty elevator. He felt terrible and was glad that none of his neighbors had to see him like this.

He caught sight of his reflection in the shiny walls in front of him and felt even worse. He looked exhausted, a total mess. The grin that was always on his face was nowhere to be found. His hair kept falling into his eyes, which were faintly bloodshot and had dark circles beneath them. He hadn't been able to sleep at all the night before, so really, he couldn't be surprised, but still…

In the course of eighteen hours, he managed to fall apart.

Combing his fingers through his hair, he sighed. The same few strands fell right back into his eyes and he hung his head. God, what was he _doing_? All he wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep until everything went away, but naturally, sleep escaped him. How was he going to get through this?

The elevator bumped gently as it settled on the ground floor. It _ding_ed again and the doors slid open. Gabriel pushed himself off the wall and trudged through the lobby, pretending not to notice that a woman sitting on a sofa along the far wall was reading the debut novel of one L.K. Norse.

Like he needed reminding that his writing was fucked.

He skirted through the people on the sidewalks, sticking close to the buildings and purposely not looking into the windows of the three bookstores he passed on his way to Roché's office. It used to make him laugh and give him such a sense of pride to see stacks of his novel actually arranged in the front window with signs like "CHECK OUT THE BOOKS ON THE _NEW YORK TIMES_ BESTSELLERS LIST" or "THE HOT DEBUT NOVEL" but now it just filled him with dread. He wasn't sure he'd be able to duplicate that feat, no matter how hard he tried.

No one on the street recognized him yet (he still hadn't achieved that level of fame, and he was relieved by that) but even if someone had looked at the back cover or the back flap to see his picture, they might not have realized it was him. In the picture (which, Gabriel suddenly remembered with a stab of distress, Kali had taken), he had been laughing, looking off to the left frame, at a particularly funny and sarcastic remark his friend Lucifer had made. Somehow, Kali had been right there with her camera, and when Gabriel saw it later, he loved it immediately.

Without that laughter on his face, he looked like a totally different person.

He made it to Roché's office ten minutes later, waving halfheartedly at his receptionist Becky, who waved cheerily back. He passed her desk and pushed open the frosted-glass door with its black lettering reading _Balthazar Roché_, slammed it behind him, and dropped himself in the chair directly across from his agent.

"Oi, can I give you a call back in a minute? A client just walked in." Balthazar glanced at his clock, thinking he'd misjudged the time, and furrowed his brow. Gabriel was early.

Gabriel was _never_ early.

"Alright, later, then." He hung up and stared at Gabriel for a moment. "What happened?" he asked, a note of suspicion coloring his voice. He'd been pranked by Gabriel once or twice before.

But Gabriel sighed. He slouched in his seat and ran his fingers through his hair again before dropping his arm and saying, "Last night didn't go as well as I'd hoped."

"And by that, you mean…?"

"I was gonna ask her to marry me."

"She said no?"

"She didn't actually say no because I didn't actually ask. What _actually_ happened is she dumped me before I could even ask."

Balthazar didn't look entirely convinced. "Wasn't it your anniversary?"

"Yeah. Three years."

"She dumped you on your anniversary?"

"She said she didn't realize what day it was."

He stared at Gabriel's dejected expression for a few more moments. "You're being serious, aren't you?" He didn't quite know how to deal with a serious Gabriel Speight.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am." As if to punctuate his point, he dug a bag of M&Ms out of his pocket and tipped a few into his mouth.

Balthazar leaned back in his chair, regarding Gabriel. Sure, sometimes the writer bugged the holy fuck out of him—he always turned things into a joke, he smarted off, he buzzed through sweets like nobody's business, and he actually missed the deadline on his first book by a month—but he was used to him now, and in the end, all the inconvenience had been worth it because Speight brought in a relative truckload of cash, considering he was a first-time novelist. A change in his demeanor was probably not a good thing. "How's your writing been?" he asked cautiously.

Gabriel froze for a moment in mid-chew before swallowing and said, "Since yesterday? Shitty. Haven't written a fucking word." He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath; it looked to Balthazar like he was trying to hold onto his calm exterior.

Now that he was looking closer at Gabriel, he wondered why he hadn't believed him right from the start. He looked strained and older than his twenty-seven years. Everything about him attested to his clearly-distressed mental state. Balthazar wasn't used to seeing him with that worn-out expression—it didn't look right on him.

"You should take a break," he said finally. "Maybe some time off will do you good. Take a holiday, go to California or Hawaii or something. Just don't come back with a new agent," he added, a lame attempt at a joke that was lost on Gabriel anyway.

He sighed and shook his head. "I don't want a vacation. I _want_ to finish this fucking book."

"Look, I've seen other clients with writer's block." Gabriel flinched and closed his eyes at the phrase "writer's block." Those two words were a fucking curse. Balthazar went on. "For one thing, we don't even know if that's what you have right now. It could just be a temporary thing, until you get used to this huge change in your life. Or, if it's not, a holiday could snap you out of it. Give you some new perspective, eh? Just get your mind off the book for awhile. If you focus on it too long, it could drive you mad."

Gabriel pitched forward suddenly, burying his face in his hands and propping up his elbows on his knees. "Bit late for that," he mumbled.

Balthazar didn't know what to do. The last time a client had shown up looking this distraught, he'd tried to convince _her_ to take time off, too. She ended up hanging herself a week later. He didn't want a repeat of that particular episode. It would be a PR nightmare, but more than that, Gabriel really was a hot writer and he had something to say. If he killed himself, the world would be worse for it.

"Please," Balthazar said. "Go hang out with some friends. Maybe just get out of the city. Get a change of scenery. Go see London, for fuck's sake. Do something, just don't sit in that flat of yours and brood. It won't do you or your novel any good. And get ready for that interview tomorrow."

"I'm not doing the interview," Gabriel said automatically, his head jerking up.

"Yes, you are. You'll do fine once you get some sleep. Everyone loves you, and I have the utmost confidence in you." Balthazar fixed his blue-eyed gaze on him sharply.

If he'd been his usual self, he would have fought hard not to do the interview. He would have promised to have the book done early—a promise they both knew he couldn't keep—or threatened not to finish it at all—a threat they both knew on which he was perfectly capable of following through—but he wasn't his usual self. For a few moments, Gabriel stared at him, his golden-green eyes looking flat and dull, and Balthazar wondered what was going through his mind. He saw the exact moment that the younger man caved from the hunch of his shoulders and the beaten look on his face. "Okay," he sighed.

"Go get some sleep and promise me you won't do something stupid. And if you _do_ plan on doing something stupid, call me first. At least give me a chance to talk you out of it."

"I'm not going to kill myself," Gabriel said, standing up and tipping a few more M&Ms into his mouth. He pocketed the bag and tugged at the bottom hem of his jacket.

"Promise me, Speight."

Gabriel gazed at him again and Balthazar wondered again what exactly the young writer was thinking. "Okay. I promise."

"Sleep. Don't drink," he added, pointing at him with mock sternness.

"No booze, just bed," Gabriel confirmed, heading to the door.

"And hang out with your friends or something. You shouldn't be alone right now."

"I'm not going to kill myself," Gabriel repeated. He'd paused with his hand on the doorknob. "It would be far too selfish of me to deprive the world of this beauty," he added with the tiniest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Yes, it most certainly would. And you have an incredible talent—that would be a shame to lose, too."

Gabriel's serious face slipped back into place. Balthazar got the impression that it was the wrong thing to say. Reminding him of his inability to write was a mistake, in retrospect. "Yeah," Gabriel mumbled. "See you tomorrow then."

"Be here at nine. The interview is at eleven. Got it?"

"Got it. Anything else?"

Balthazar tilted his head to the side to think. "Yeah. Maybe you should go out tonight. Try to get laid."

Normally, Gabriel would have laughed or made a snide comment—something along the lines of "I don't have to _try_ to get laid"—but he didn't today. "Yeah, I'm not so sure sex is gonna help."

"Bad suggestion. Sorry, mate."

Gabriel sighed and let himself out of Roché's office.

* * *

**L.K. NORSE. Sometimes, I slay me.**

**Also, I really want to give Gabriel epic snuggles right now. HE NEEDS A HUG SO MUCH!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry about the huge delay in updating! I just had to finish _Pilot Light_, and now that I have, everything feels strange. That was the longest project I've ever worked on...**

**So! More Gabriel angst! I promise it'll get better soon, though! I just have this thing with Gabriel - he seems like such a complex character, and I like exploring his dark side, and he's in a very dark place right now.**

* * *

"This is useless," Gabriel muttered, running his fingers through his hair for what Roché thought must have been the eightieth time that morning. He looked a little less tired than he had the day before, but it still wasn't much of an improvement. At least it appeared that he'd gotten a bit of sleep. "I'm not sure how entertaining I'm going to be today."

"You'll be fine," Roché said reassuringly, although he had his doubts as well. Still, he needed to be calm for Speight because if he could feign his confidence, maybe it would give him the confidence he needed to get through this. Yes, Gabriel was hugely popular with his fans, but he was notoriously bad with interviews.

Considering where his head was right now, he would need all the help he could get.

Gabriel just sighed and stared out the window at the city passing around them.

Roché considered cracking open a bottle of champagne—if only to give Gabriel something else to focus on—but decided against it. The last thing he needed was a drunk, depressed Gabriel Speight making a fool of himself. He didn't quite trust Gabriel not to go overboard, the reason he expressly forbade him from drinking the night before.

"Speight."

The writer didn't look at his agent. It was as though he simply couldn't hear him.

"Gabriel."

Gabriel finally turned his head.

"You can do this. You'll be fine."

He nodded slowly, as if genuinely weighing Roché's words and agreeing with them, but Balthazar recognized the motion for what it really was. Gabriel just wanted him to shut up.

* * *

Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest and stared right into the camera. He knew that if he'd been engaged to be married right now, this whole situation would be a lot easier to deal with; he'd be grinning and probably a lot easier to work with. But as it was, he couldn't even muster up a genuine smile and every time he tried, it looked forced. Even with the lighting nearly blinding him, he saw Roché leaning in to the photographer and the editor to murmur something, and Gabriel hoped his agent was telling them to take pity on him. Really, everything he was giving them right now was _all_ they were going to get out of him.

"Alright, Mr. Norse, you're fine. Miss Masters is going to be conducting the interview now."

From the light, a woman who was probably twenty-five at the oldest emerged. She had close-cut bleached-blond hair and a smile that, while pretty, seemed dangerous, too. "Good morning, Mr. Norse. You can call me Meg." She held out her hand, and Gabriel shook it.

"Gabriel. Just don't put that in the article." He half-smiled for the briefest of moments.

"You got it." She let him off the set of the photo shoot and into another room just down the hall, Roché five steps behind them. "You've been interviewed before, right?" Meg asked.

"Yeah. A couple times."

"Okay, good. Then you're familiar with the process."

"Fairly."

She motioned for him to take a seat on a fairly beat-up sofa as she settled into an armchair across from him and Balthazar went to a fridge in the corner, pulling out three bottles of water. He tossed one to Gabriel and one to Meg, both of whom caught them easily.

"So your first novel was quite a hit, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. It honestly wasn't something I expected. I mean, I knew I was a pretty good writer, but I didn't think anything about the way I wrote or what I wrote _about_ had any mainstream interest. I would have been happy with selling a hundred or a thousand books."

"And yet you sold over fifty thousand in the first two weeks," Meg said, laughing.

"Yeah, that was pretty cool. When my agent first told me, I thought he was fucking with me." Gabriel shrugged. "It wouldn't have surprised me if he was, but he wasn't."

"Not all of us feel the need to prank _everyone_ around us," Balthazar said smoothly, cracking open his water bottle.

Meg aimed a slightly confused look at both of them, and Gabriel sighed. "I have a tendency not to take things seriously and I've been known to play tricks on people."

She grinned. "You're not going to prank me, are you?"

Gabriel just shook his head. "I highly doubt it. I'm not feeling so hot right now, so you're safe."

"Are you sick?"

He bit his lip for a moment. "Um, no. My girlfriend of three years just dumped me a few days ago—on our anniversary, by the way—so I'm not really my usual merry self."

Meg didn't look convinced.

"For once, I tell the truth, and everyone thinks it's a joke." He sighed again and opened his water bottle. He took a swig and capped the bottle again. "Alright, let me be completely honest. I _really_ don't want to be here right now. I like meeting my fans but I don't do well with the press. Most of you are untrustworthy, devious with ulterior motives. My words get twisted unless I'm the one to write them. And if you're going to ask me how my second novel is going, I'll tell you right now—it's going shitty. I haven't written in a few days. Everything in me is utterly indifferent. I have absolutely no drive to write anymore and I don't know what's going to happen. For all I know, I'm not going to publish another book. So the sooner this is over with, the better." He leaned back and glanced at his agent.

Roché was leaning against the wall, one arm crossed over his chest and the other elbow propped up on his wrist, hiding his face in his hand. He looked up, looking frustrated and embarrassed. "Sorry, Meg. I knew he was going to be moody, but…"

Gabriel gave him a bored look. "I tried to warn you earlier. It's not my fault you didn't listen."

"It's alright," Meg said quickly. "I'll make this as fast and painless as possible." She half-smiled. "I certainly wouldn't want to subject you to my untrustworthiness and deviousness any longer than necessary."

Gabriel didn't even have the decency to look apologetic. He just nodded and took another drink of water.

"Okay. When did you start writing?"

He looked up at the ceiling. No one ever asked him any interesting questions. "Around the same time I started reading, when I was five or six. My early work was terrible."

Meg giggled. "Did you always want to be a novelist?"

"It was the one thing I always wanted to do. Sometimes I wanted to be a cop, an astronaut, a TV show host… I contemplated joining the Navy for awhile when I was seventeen, too. But yeah, I kind of always knew it would lead to me being an author in the end."

"Well, if this hadn't worked out, what would you be doing right now?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Probably would have been a teacher."

"What do you do when you're not writing?"

"Watch TV, mostly. BBC's _Sherlock_, _Boardwalk Empire_, _Dr. Who_, _The Walking Dead_, pretty much anything British-produced or on HBO."

"Okay, well, that's it for now. But if I think of any more questions—"

"Just call him and he'll forward them to me," Gabriel said, pointing at Roché, who rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

* * *

"Gabriel—" Roché started ten minutes later in the limo, but Gabriel cut him off.

"Don't even start. I could not conceivably give less of a fuck."

But he started anyway. "You were absolutely, horribly rude to that poor girl. This is _not_ the way to earn fans. You—"

Gabriel twisted in his seat, giving him a hard glare. "Did I _not_ just say that I don't care? I _knew_ this was going to happen and you forced me into it anyway! I _knew_ I was going to be sulky and you—"

"The world doesn't revolve around _you_, Speight! Your girlfriend dumped you—big fucking deal! People get cut loose every day! What makes _you_ so special? If you weren't a fairly recognizable author, no one would care. Get over yourself!" A second later, Roché regretted his words. Yes, Gabriel wasn't in a unique situation, but he was right. This _was_ partly his fault, and maybe the writer had overreacted for nothing, but he'd been unnecessarily unkind.

But Gabriel just gave him a cold look before turning back to stare out the window again.

"Sorry," Balthazar murmured.

"Fuck you."

He was about to say something else, something to ease the sting to his obviously-bruised ego, but Gabriel's phone rang a moment later and the younger man pulled his phone out of his pocket, checked the caller, and answered it.

"Hey." There were muffled, indistinguishable words on the other end. "Yeah. I don't want to talk about it." More words. "Yeah, it was, actually." More words, and suddenly Gabriel recoiled in his seat. "Actually… we broke up." Silence for a moment, then that distorted voice again. "Yeah, I actually need to get out of the apartment for awhile." He glanced at Balthazar for a moment. "Listen, can I call you back when I get home? I can't really talk right now." A few more words. "Yeah, bye." He hung up and pocketed his phone again.

Balthazar knew better than to ask who'd called. "Look, Gabriel. I'm sorry. What I said was harsh. I'm frustrated. I spoke rashly. I—"

"You're right."

"Sorry?"

"I'm not special. I'm just self-centered." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'll get over it. I just need time. Just…" He turned meet Balthazar's eyes. "No more interviews, okay? I really can't deal with that shit right now."

Roché nodded. "Yeah, I'll make sure of it."

"Thanks." He turned back to the window, and a heavy weight settled in Balthazar's stomach. Not for the first time, and not for the last time, he wished both that Kali was here and that it was okay to strike a woman who deserved it—because she definitely deserved it.

* * *

**They're both assholes. I love it. LOVE IT. Next chapter should be a bit more fun, though! Gabriel goes and hangs out with a certain friend! By the way, I don't like writing the angel characters with big families - they're a lot more fun to play with when they're not all related, and even though in _Pilot Light_ and _Little Glass Vial_, Castiel had an older brother (Michael and Gabriel, respectively), none of the angels are family in this one. (Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, and Castiel are all brothers in _The Family Business_, which I haven't posted yet, but there's a really good reason for it.)**

**So yeah! Updating _Flash_ next I think.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Here you go! A new update for you! I know it's been awhile, but I've been busy... Birthday was on Saturday, I got a new tattoo (huge candy skull on my arm!), and for the past few days I've been on leave at my cousin and his wife's house, so I've been exploring Hollywood and Los Angeles. It's been fun!**

* * *

Gabriel was grateful for any excuse to get out of his apartment that night, so the moment he was back home, he called Castiel back, who answered on the first ring.

"Gabe, what happened?" Castiel demanded. "You broke up with Kali?"

He sighed. "I wish that was what happened. No, she broke up with me."

Silence. Then, "Good God, _why_?"

"I don't…" He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed again. "She said it was because we're in two different places in the relationship and our lives. She paid the rent for this month and next month—reparations was how she referred to it—and then she just walked out."

"That bitch! Want me to write a nasty review for her next show?"

Castiel was an art critic for the _New York Times_, a well-respected one, too. The thought of Kali waking up one morning and reading Castiel Novak's scathing review of her art opening put a small smile on Gabriel's face. "That's generous of you, but I can only grant you so much artistic license. I have a feeling that if you tried to knock her down a peg, no one would believe you."

"Are you saying I'm too nice to be mean?"

"No, I'm saying that no one would believe she put on a bad show."

Castiel _humpf_ed and Gabriel laughed softly. "Alright, Gabe, but I offered, and you turned me down. Keep that in mind later."

Gabriel almost snorted in derision but Castiel barreled on without waiting for a response. "So, you need to get out of the apartment?"

"Yeah. I've kind of been holed up here ever since it happened except for going to Roché's office and doing that fucking interview, so I'm kind of getting sick of it by now."

"Wait, you did an interview after Kali dumped you?" Castiel was well-aware of Gabriel's disdain for the media and, while not too familiar with his personality while emotionally stressed, he could imagine the veritable shit-storm he unleashed. "How did _that_ turn out?"

"How do you think? I was bitter and rude. The woman doing the interview didn't seem too upset, but Roché was pissed at me. He basically cussed me out afterwards, told me I…" His throat tightened. Balthazar's words still stung a bit. "He basically told me I'm self-obsessed and childish for reacting so badly to the situation. I think he's right, though."

"No, not at all. He knows you hate doing interviews and right after she broke up with you? How did he expect you to be happy after that?"

"I don't know, but he's right. I'm not unique. I don't have a right to—"

"Gabriel. She dumped you. _On your anniversary._ You more than have a right to be upset."

He sighed. "I guess."

"Alright, so look. You know how you said you need to get out of the apartment?"

"Yeah…"

"Let's go to Perdition tonight!"

Castiel sounded so excited, Gabriel almost smiled. Almost. "Sounds great—you, me, and Dean." Dean Winchester was Castiel's boyfriend of a year and a half. Gabriel had hung out with them before and they could be disgustingly sweet sometimes. It didn't bother him before, but now that Kali was gone, it would just remind him of what he didn't have anymore. "Thanks, but I don't really want to be a third wheel."

"Nah, not Dean. Just you and me. Besides, Dean's hanging out with his brother for a few days, so he wouldn't want to come along anyway."

"Oh." Gabriel didn't even know Dean _had_ a brother. "Well, then, you and me sounds good. What's the plan?"

"I'll come over around nine and we'll head out at ten. And tonight, all the drinks are on me!"

Gabriel chuckled. "You're going to regret that promise."

* * *

Castiel held true to his plan and showed up at nine exactly. "Hello, Gabe," he said cheerfully from Gabriel's doorway.

"Hey, Cas. What's up?"

His best friend slipped past him into the apartment. "Not much." He eyed Gabriel critically. "We need to talk about… _that_."

Gabriel looked down, unsure of what Castiel was talking about. "What do you mean?"

"Well… you're not wearing that, are you?"

He was wearing jeans and a button-down dress shirt with a small blue plaid pattern. "Um… I was gonna wear my leather jacket, too," he said lamely. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Castiel sighed dramatically, raking his blue eyes over Gabriel's stocky frame again. "There's nothing _wrong_ with it, per se, but… you're twenty-seven, not forty-seven. And you can pass for twenty-three. There's no need to dress like an old man." He grabbed Gabriel by the arm. "Come on, let's go fix this mess."

"I'm not—_fine_." He allowed himself to be dragged along to his room and to his closet. "But I'm not sure that this is gonna really make a difference."

"Okay, what's the goal tonight?" Castiel asked, blatantly ignoring his statement. His voice was muffled as he dug through Gabriel's closet. "Are you trying to get attention, a number, or laid?"

"Just… I don't know."

"Laid it is, then. Alright, how about these pants—" he tossed out a pair of leather pants that Gabriel was fairly certain he hadn't worn in two years "—and this shirt?" He handed the other man a black button-down shirt.

"Black on black? I don't really know how I feel about the Goth look tonight. Also, _no leather_. I think the expiration date on pulling off leather is twenty-five."

Castiel's head reappeared from between a suit Gabriel only wore once and a shirt that had been a gift from his mom and, naturally, he hadn't worn at all. "_Excuse_ me?"

It was then that Gabriel realized Castiel was wearing leather pants. "Unless you have the ass of a twenty-year-old. Which I don't, and you do, okay?"

Castiel smirked. "Apology accepted. Okay, no leather. And no black?"

"No, no black on black. What's wrong with my jeans?"

"No, not jeans. That will _not_ get you laid."

"It works for Dean."

"You're not trying to get into _my_ pants, and he doesn't go to Perdition. You can't wear jeans." Castiel went back into Gabriel's closet and returned with a pair of plain black pants. "Here. It's black but at least it's not leather and not denim. Good enough?"

Gabriel sighed in resignation. "Yeah, fine."

"Hmm… and this." He handed Gabriel a solid green dress shirt with slightly darker green vertical stripes.

"Cas—"

"Trust me. It'll set off your eyes. You will definitely get laid in it."

Well, Castiel did have style and he could dress himself, so maybe he was right. Snatching the shirt out of his hand, Gabriel tossed the clothes on his bed and slipped his shirt over his head. "I really don't—"

"Gabe. Please. The women will be all over you."

* * *

"Jesus fuck, guys. You're early." The strawberry blonde behind the bar skillfully flipped a bottle around his arm and waved it from Castiel to Gabriel, grinning. "Want a drink?"

"It's on him," Gabriel said. "I'll take a Screwdriver."

Castiel grinned, too. "Cape Cod. I didn't think you worked on Friday nights, Lu. What are you doing here?"

"Meh, I got called in. Ruby wasn't feeling so hot so Crowley gave her the day off. She's taking my shift tomorrow, though." He pulled out two plastic cups and filled them with ice. "So what's been going on with you two? Gabe, your anniversary was a couple days ago, wasn't it?"

"Ouch," Castiel muttered as Lu filled one cup with orange juice and the other with cranberry juice. Gabriel grimaced and looked away.

"What, what did I say?"

Castiel glanced quickly at Gabriel before returning his gaze to Lu, who was pouring vodka into both glasses. "Kali broke up with him."

"On your anniversary?"

"Yeah," Castiel confirmed.

"Yeesh." Lu poured an extra shot of vodka into Gabriel's drink. "Here. Drink up, buddy. You definitely need it."

Gabriel raised his eyebrows and downed his drink in two quick gulps.

"Here, I'll get you another one. Free, too."

"Thanks."

Lu let out a low whistle as he started on another Screwdriver. "Damn, what a bitch. How're you doing with that?"

Gabriel drummed his fingers on the bar. "It fucking sucks. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it."

"Two years, wasn't it?"

"Three."

"Fuck." He pushed the second drink toward Gabriel. "So what happened?"

"Fuck, just… it happened so fast. I came home and she was just sitting there. So I was like, 'What's up?' And then she said, 'We have to talk.' I asked her what about and she just said, 'I'm leaving you.' Five minutes later, she was out the door. Apparently she'd spent all day moving out. She already has another place."

"Fuck, man. That's cold. Why would she pull that shit on your anniversary?"

"She said she didn't realize what day it was."

"She forgot your anniversary."

"Yeah."

"Damn."

"Which is why I brought him out here," Castiel said cheerfully, flinging his arm around Gabriel. "We're gonna get him drunk and get him some much-needed female attention. I didn't want to bother while you were still with her, but since you're single again—" He ignored Gabe's subtle flinch "—I knew I had to help you improve your look. No one hit on you when you were out! That is unacceptable."

Lu nodded in agreement. "You're not a bad-looking guy, Gabe—and you're usually pretty fucking funny. Oh, and that whole 'you're a famous author' thing. You should have women throwing themselves at you. Men, too."

Gabriel snorted.

"What? I'm just saying. Even if you weren't planning on taking anyone home, you should have had all sorts of attention. Now you just have an excuse."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I told Roché yesterday and I'll tell you today—I don't think a one-night stand is what I need right now."

"Told who?"

"Balthazar Roché," Castiel explained. "His agent, remember?"

"Balthazar? Who the fuck inflicts the name Balthazar on their kid?" Lu asked, laughing.

"Who the fuck names their kid Lucifer?" Gabriel shot back, smirking a bit.

"Touché," Lu said. He grinned. "At least my name has a bit of character to it, though."

"Named after Satan—what an honor," Castiel joked.

"At least I earned it." It was true. Lu and Gabriel had been friends since high school, partners in crime for various pranks played on classmates. Even though they'd drifted apart a bit after graduation, they were still fairly close. From what Gabriel heard, his old friend still fucked with coworkers.

"Let's go dance!" Castiel said suddenly as more people started filtering in. He shook Gabriel's arm. "Come on!"

"Come back and see me!" Lu called after them after Gabriel slid off his chair. "I'm stuck behind this bar until close!"

"I'll be back," Gabe promised.

* * *

The night wasn't too terrible. Gabriel was relieved to be out of his apartment, but the bass of the music nearly deafened him. A couple of women came over to him and talked, but they ended up leaving after a few words. He just didn't feel anything. He needed time to recover. The breakup was terrible and he was still reeling.

By the time he and Castiel left, he was fucked-up. Lu kept pouring drinks and only charged for half—for which both Gabriel and Castiel were grateful—so Castiel called a cab and thirty minutes later, they were stumbling through the door to Castiel's apartment. Gabriel could barely stand, so Castiel pointed him toward the spare bedroom where he promptly tripped onto the bed and passed out.

"Hope you had a good time," Castiel murmured, heading to his own bedroom.

* * *

**CROWLEY OWNS PERDITION YOU GUYS. HE'S THE KING OF HELL AND LUCIFER IS JUST A BARTENDER.**

**Here's the thing about fanfictions: I love Lucifer and it always bothers me when he's portrayed as a huge dick in fanfictions. I like being nice to the guy (eventually) so for the most part, he's a good person in my fics.**

**I have problems... Also, for the most part, I hate Michael. But he's gonna be a good guy in this fic, too.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Short chapter is short. *hangs head* Still, at least I updated! I've been stressed today and I got off like an hour after everyone else in my division except my upper chain of command. Pretty much everyone at my rank and below got off a good hour before me... and then I had to shower... so I didn't have much time to write tonight. Hopefully more tomorrow, and I get Wednesday off, so I'll write a lot more then.**

**All characters mentioned herein belong to Eric Kripke.**

* * *

When Gabriel woke up the next morning, he nearly had a heart attack. For a few moments, he had no idea where he was—it definitely wasn't his own bedroom. How much had he had to drink the night before? He vaguely recalled Lu practically pouring booze down his throat. Normally, he didn't let himself drink that much, but…

Then he got a better look around and realized he was in Castiel and Dean's guest bedroom. _Oh._ He rolled off the bed and grimaced. He'd slept in his clothes the night before and he felt like a mess now. He sincerely hoped he could at least shower before he did his walk of shame—not that was even a legitimate walk of shame, seeing as how he hadn't gotten laid.

Mostly, though, he was just happy it was now Saturday and that he didn't have to see his agent's smirking face until Monday.

He left the bedroom and began hunting for Castiel. That man had the amazing gift of being able to drink heavily and then wake up the next morning no worse for the wear. Gabriel hadn't believed in people with superpowers until he saw Castiel the morning after a night of debauchery. His superpower was definitely the ability to throw off a hangover completely. That was why Gabriel suspected he'd be awake right now, either making breakfast or watching TV.

Sure enough, when he stuck his head in the kitchen, he saw Castiel throwing together what looked like pancakes. The taller man—Castiel was five-foot-eleven to Gabriel's five-foot-eight, and that was a rounded-up measurement on the author's part—glanced at him and grinned. "Hey, buddy. How're you feeling?"

Gabriel half-shrugged. "Okay, I guess. No headache, but I feel really run-down." He yawned quickly. "How long is breakfast gonna take?"

Castiel shrugged. "Twenty minutes or so. Why?"

"Mind if I take a shower?"

Castiel grinned. "Please, go right ahead. I don't want you stinking up my kitchen."

"Go fuck yourself," Gabriel said good-naturedly.

"Since you're up, I'm turning on music," he added as Gabriel turned around to head out of the kitchen.

"If it's that Carly Ray whatever-the-fuck-her-name-is crap, don't bother."

"Nah, I was thinking The Damned this morning."

Gabriel nodded approvingly. "Good choice. Have at it."

"I was going to anyway," Castiel said. He reached for a remote on the counter next to him, pointed it somewhere over his shoulder, and hit a button. A moment later, Dave Vanian's creepily haunting voice filled the apartment. Gabriel grinned as he headed to the bathroom.

Once he'd showered and stumbled back to the kitchen, he grabbed a few plates, knives, and forks out of various cupboards and drawers. He was feeling a bit better after his shower and he figured that, if Castiel was making breakfast, the least he could do was set the table. By now, pancakes and bacon were sizzling on the griddle and Gabriel's stomach was rumbling. Still, he felt a little nauseous around the bacon. Normally, he loved it, but this morning, he didn't feel like it would settle right.

"Plates," Castiel said, holding out a hand.

Gabriel gave him a plate.

"How many pancakes do you want?"

"Two to start."

"How much bacon?"

Gabriel made a face. "I should probably skip it this morning. It probably won't taste as good coming back up."

Castiel shot him a half-disgusted, half-amused look. "Do you feel sick? I thought you said you were feeling okay."

"I am, I just think that bacon would make me feel… less so."

He shrugged. "Dean will eat it later, I'm sure." He and Gabriel swapped plates and the shorter man waited patiently for his friend to finish dishing out his own food, plugging in his phone to charge and setting it on the table next to him. Once Castiel sat down, Gabriel doused his pancakes in syrup and started munching happily.

They were both quiet for a few minutes until Gabriel finally asked, "So, what don't I remember from last night?" He grinned mischievously. "Did I make out with a drag queen or something?"

Castiel gave him a small smile. "There were no drag queens at Perdition last night. The drag show is tonight. But I do seem to recall you turning down quite a few women who asked you to dance. A few were even pretty."

Gabriel laughed. "So most were _not_ pretty? Nice to know that my taste is still intact even with a lot of alcohol in my system."

Castiel gave him a serious look. "Actually, I believe you led most of them to believe you were gay. You kept winking at me."

"Oh." He shot Castiel an embarrassed, apologetic grin. "Sorry. You didn't tell Dean, did you? He'd probably kick my ass." Actually, he wasn't completely sure that Dean would be pissed, but stranger things had happened. He was also five inches taller than him, and while he seemed like a nice guy, Gabriel knew he'd been in a few bar fights and hadn't come off worse.

Castiel suddenly grinned. "I'm joking."

"About what?" He didn't quite trust Castiel's sense of humor. He was cool, but he didn't make jokes well.

"Most of it. There were only two or three women. I think they got the impression that you'd rather be left alone. You lurked by Lu most of the night."

"That explains how I got so drunk," Gabriel muttered.

"Yes. He seemed to sympathize with your plight."

"He was probably identifying a bit with what happened with him and Eve."

Castiel shrugged. "I forgot all about that. I thought she was cheating on him, though. Kali wasn't cheating on you."

"It was still a huge shock for him, though." About a year ago, Lu's then-girlfriend Eve left him, quite out of the blue, for a guy named Zachariah Halsey, who was a good thirty years older than her. After that, Lu had turned into a bit of a dick for awhile. He was back to normal now, but Gabriel acknowledged that Castiel was probably right about Lu's sympathy.

He was just finishing up his fourth pancake (and feeling steadily less nauseous, either because of the pancakes or because of the bacon smell dissipating) when his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen and rolled his eyes. _Michael Milligan_ was flashing across the display. Michael was one of his friends, it was true, but they only met because of Kali. They didn't know each other extremely well, so if Michael was calling him, it would probably end in a headache on his end. Still, he dragged his finger across the screen to answer the call.

"Hey, Michael."

"Gabriel! I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, I've been up."

"Good. Listen, I heard about you and Kali."

_Kill me now_, Gabriel thought, rolling his eyes again.

"I'm really upset with her. I mean, there's acceptable ways to break up with someone and unacceptable ways to do it. That was just… mind-boggling. I had no idea she could be such a bitch."

Gabriel gave a surprised snort of laughter. "Yeah, I guess. I didn't see it coming, that's for damn sure."

"Yeah. I'm really sorry that happened. But, hey, listen, Rachel's gallery is opening a new exhibit next Friday. You want to come? I promise Kali won't be there."

He almost said no. Almost. But he knew that it could be just the thing to get back on track with his writing. He was always hunting for new experiences, and maybe he'd be struck by a bolt of inspiration. "Yeah. Sounds good. Thanks."

"No problem. And there's an extra invite if you want to bring a friend."

"Now you're just being cruel," he half-joked.

Michael caught the jest though and he laughed. "Very. What about that journalist friend of yours? Castiel Novak, I think his name is? Would he want to come?"

"Probably, but let me ask." Gabriel tilted the phone away from his mouth. "Hey, Cas, want to go with me to an art exhibit next Friday?"

Castiel furrowed his brow. "An art exhibit? With _you_?"

"What's with the tone? You act like I'm uncivilized or something."

"It just doesn't seem like your kind of thing."

"Exactly. Do you want to come with me or not?"

"As long as Dean doesn't have anything planned that night, sure. He's going to be back tomorrow so it should be fine."

"Cool." He moved his phone back to his mouth. "Mike? Cas says he'll go."

"Great! Alright, I'll send the invitations to your place."

"Thanks."

"No problem. See you Friday!"

"Yeah, see you." He hung up and shot Castiel a confused look. "Just when I think I've got Kali's friends figured out, they pull shit like that."

"What are you talking about?"

"That was Michael Milligan. He's been pretty good friends with Kali for like nine years, but he basically just said that he's pissed at the way she broke up with me and then he invited me to this exhibit at his wife's gallery and assured me that Kali wouldn't be there."

"Someone's on your side. Isn't that a good thing?"

"Well, yeah, but it's _weird_. It's like being in the Twilight Zone, especially because Michael and I don't know each other that well. But you're right, it's a good thing. I'll take what I can get."

Castiel nodded. "More pancakes?"

He grinned. "Of course."

* * *

**That little bit about Eve being Lu's ex was definitely inspired by "Blue Archangel," my independent Balcifer fanfiction. Please go read it if you haven't done so already! *shameless whoring of my fanfiction* I believe my next fanfiction to update is "Little Glass Vial," so brace yourself for major feels. SO MUCH FEELING WILL OCCUR IN THE NEXT CHAPTER.**

**...still waiting on that AO3 invite...**


	6. Chapter 6

**Just a forewarning: this chapter fucking sucks. It's a short chapter. Nothing much happens and you can really just skip it. It's only significant in that it's the last chapter without Sammy. Slow-build Sabriel is SLOW. I'm just trying to build up the backstory a bit, y'know? *sighs***

**Anyway, eight days until we deploy. I'll try to write one more chapter for this but I'll have to see how my other three stories go. *crosses fingers* As it is, my week on leave (I drove up to San Francisco and I'm exhausted) looks pretty full-up but I'm with a whole bunch of creators (all of whom love Supernatural, which is cool) who understand my need and desire to**write.

**_Supernatural_ belongs to Eric Kripke.**

* * *

Gabriel stared at the empty Word document, feeling a bead of panic rising through him. Never before had a blinking cursor looked so intimidating. What the Hell had happened? A week ago, he was well on his way to cranking out his second novel, but now… Well, it appeared that when Kali left, she'd taken his Muse with him. He toyed with the idea of calling her, but she probably wouldn't answer if he did. He sighed and settled back in his seat.

His phone buzzed annoyingly on the table next to his laptop. _It can't be!_ he thought, but he hoped it was, anyway. Maybe Kali had reconsidered! He picked up his phone and tried not to feel disappointed. "Hey, Cas," he said with mock cheerfulness. "What's going on?"

"I mentioned the upcoming art exhibit to Dean and, believe it or not, he's interested in attending. Do you think you could ask—Michael, was it? Michael Milligan?—for another ticket?"

Great. He was going to be a third wheel. That was _exactly_ how he wanted to spend his Friday night. Still, going with Castiel and Dean would be better than going alone. "Yeah, sure. I can do that." _Damn it._ He'd thought he was safe from this possibility. It wasn't that he didn't like Dean, because he genuinely did—as long as he didn't have to spend more than twenty minutes with him. Gabriel knew he was good for Castiel, and that his best friend was good for Dean. It was just that, one-on-one, they grated on each other's nerves. But he didn't think Dean would even _want_ to go to an art exhibit. It wasn't really his thing. He was pretty sure Dean didn't even own a suit. "He does know it's a formal event, right? I'm gonna be wearing a tux." _Maybe I should invite Roché, too._ He dismissed the idea almost immediately. It wasn't that he didn't like his agent, because he did. The blonde was just on his shit list right now. Besides, an art exhibit would probably bore him.

"He doesn't know, but I do. I'll take him to rent a tuxedo tomorrow." Castiel sighed and Gabriel imagined him pinching the bridge of his nose, the way he did when he had a headache or Dean was being frustrating. "Thank you, Gabriel. So how are you doing?"

He sighed. "Pretty shitty, actually. I still can't write." He reached into his pocket for a pack of Starbursts and popped one into his mouth. "And I haven't left the apartment in two days."

"You need to get out, then. Want me to come over?"

"Nah, Dean just got back. You spend time with him. I'll be fine."

"Okay," Castiel said. But he didn't sound convinced. "I'm just worried about you in that apartment all alone. If you need me to come over and hang out, I will. You have my number."

"Yeah." He understood Castiel's concern, but he wasn't suicidal. He was just sad. He knew he needed to just move on, just get over Kali. She wasn't coming back and he had to accept that. But it _hurt_, knowing that the woman to whom he'd been so close to giving his heart had been planning to leave him the whole time. It hurt like a stab to the stomach.

Besides, going out hadn't really distracted him from the problem at hand. It just affirmed that he was actually single. It almost amplified the fact that he was alone and he _needed_ a distraction. So if getting out of the apartment and staring at the same walls every day led to the same conclusion, he was going to have to handle this the old-fashioned way: time and booze. He knew that one day he'd wake up and be okay again, but that day wasn't anywhere in the near future.

"Alright, Gabe. I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah. See you." Gabriel hung up and set his phone back on the slick glass table. He clicked over to the document containing his outline and stared at it for a few moments before slamming down the lid of his laptop. Yeah, there was no way he was getting any writing done today.

He mulled over calling Michael right away and asking him for the extra ticket but decided against it. He'd go for a walk and take a nap. _Then_ he would call Michael back.

* * *

Two hours later, he woke up to his phone buzzing on his nightstand. More than a little irritated—he'd been having a dream about that hot cop he'd seen on his walk—he answered without looking at the caller ID. "What?" he asked with a little more venom in his voice than necessary.

"Jesus, calm down," Castiel said. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah," Gabriel answered, immediately apologetic. "I was just asleep."

"Oh. I'm sorry to wake you. Should I call back later?"

"Nah. What's up?"

"I was just wondering if you called Michael Milligan already."

"No, not yet. Why? Did Dean decide he didn't want to go?" He hoped his voice didn't betray his anticipation.

"Oh, no. He still wants to go. In fact, he mentioned it to his brother, and now Sam wants to go, too."

Gabriel groaned internally. _Today just keeps getting better and better._ He'd never met Sam Winchester—never even seen him—but if he was related to Dean Winchester, he was probably going to end the evening trying not feign interest in his precious car. The only three things Dean ever talked about were his car, his job, and Castiel (not in that order). For the most part, Gabriel would ignore it, but if they were going to be spending hours in close proximity, that would be nearly impossible. And Sam Winchester probably wouldn't be any better. "I'll ask Michael. No promises, though."

"I understand. And tell Michael that, if need be, I will pay for Dean and Sam's tickets. I would hate to impose."

Gabriel should have just told Castiel that he didn't want to see either of the Winchesters in the near future. He should have, but he wouldn't. Castiel was very much in love with Dean and Gabriel didn't want to be the one thing that ruined the best thing that ever happened to him. Besides, if Dean wanted to broaden his horizons, who was Gabriel to deny him that opportunity? Or the other Winchester, for that matter? "Yeah, no worries. I'll call him in an hour or so."

"Thank you, Gabriel. And I apologize again for waking you up."

Gabriel took a moment to smirk over Castiel's many personalities. He was always so formal on the phone, but in person, he was relaxed and energetic. At work, he was a bit more like his telephone personality, but he would still make a joke or two. And when he was with Dean, he was—there was no other word for it—giddy, at least for a few minutes, until Dean said something stupid or serious. "Yeah, it's fine," he said. "I'll call you back when Michael gives me an answer."

"Alright. Talk to you later."

Gabriel hung up and sighed. Now was as good a time as any to call Michael back, then.

Michael picked up on the second ring. "Hey, Gabe! What's going on?"

"Not much. So you know my friend Castiel, the guy who's coming with me to the gallery?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, he wants to bring his boyfriend Dean and Dean's brother Sam. So…"

"Great! I'll put them on the list. What's the last name?"

"Winchester."

"Awesome! It starts at nine, by the way."

"I'm sure we'll be late," Gabriel half-joked. "Open bar there?"

"Of course. Rachel wouldn't have it any other way."

He snorted with laughter. "Good. Alright, well, I'll let Cas know. He's going to be happy, I'm sure."

"See you on Friday, then."

"Yeah, bye."

* * *

Castiel was quite excited when Gabriel told him about what Michael had said. Gabriel started wondering if he should start drinking now. He wasn't a big drinker normally, but this had been a stressful week and it was promising to get worse. He was going to be stuck with his best friend, a guy he could only tolerate for twenty minutes at a time, and a total stranger. And then he was going to have to pretend he didn't see the sympathetic looks people would probably shoot him. The news about the breakup would have spread through their whole social circle by now—thanks to Rachel, no doubt—and he would have to pretend he was okay even though he was far from it. And even worse, he hadn't felt any desire to write since it happened. That, he figured, would be the sign that he was back to some semblance of normal—when he was able to write, he would be okay.

* * *

**Just...fuck. This chapter. *sighs***


	7. Chapter 7

**In which one of the characters is revealed to be kind of a whore.**

**Everything belongs to Kripke. Check out my AO3 account - my username is L_Greene. Link is on my main page.**

**Also, I have a poll on my page. GO VOTE!**

**For Mems, who gripped me tight and raised me from Perdition (not the one in the story).**

* * *

Gabriel checked his watch and straightened his tie. He'd told Castiel that he'd be over at eight-thirty and he, Castiel, and the Winchester brothers would take a cab over to The Garrison. Part of him wasn't looking forward to spending the evening with the Winchesters, but another part of him was really excited to see Dean in a tuxedo, if only to make fun of him.

He knocked on Castiel's door and a few moments later, the dark-haired man was pulling open the door. "Hello, Gabriel. Come on in. The cab will be here in a few minutes."

He stepped inside and immediately registered two things: one, that Dean looked extremely uncomfortable, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room as though he was afraid of the tux he was wearing. Two, that apart from Dean, the living room was empty. "The other Winchester isn't here yet?"

"Sam is meeting us there. He had to work a bit later than he originally planned. Still…" Castiel shrugged. He appeared much more relaxed in his tuxedo than Dean did. It was probably because Dean was more used to jeans or coveralls than a suit or tuxedo.

"You gonna be okay there, bucko?" Gabriel joked, smirking at Dean.

He shot the writer a withering look. "When I asked to come, I didn't realize I was gonna have to wear a monkey suit."

Gabriel snorted with laughter. "Well, you know artists. They're so pretentious—if you showed up in jeans, they would all find it delightfully ironic."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "In that case—" he started hopefully, turning toward the bedroom, but Castiel planted himself firmly in front of his boyfriend.

"Gabriel, stop giving him ideas. Dean Winchester, if you take another step, I will leave you here."

For a moment, Gabriel could tell he was actually considering it. Apparently, though, he decided that he wanted to see Sam, because he sighed and took a seat in the La-Z-Boy. He might as well not have bothered, though, because a moment later, Castiel's phone rang.

"Hello? Yes, I did. Alright, thank you. We'll be down in two minutes." He hung up. "Taxi's here. Let's go."

Gabriel led the way out the door, feeling like maybe tonight wouldn't be all bad—especially if he got to keep messing with Dean.

* * *

The moment the three of them arrived at The Garrison, Dean and Castiel wandered off to locate the younger Winchester brother. Gabriel headed straight to the bar—Ray and Anna Burbank were there, talking to Rachel Milligan. He knew all of them and hadn't seen them in awhile, so he figured he might as well get the annoying part of the evening over with.

Sure enough, the moment Ray caught sight of him, he waved him over. The first words out of his mouth were, "Hey, Gabe! Where's Kali?"

"Ooh," Rachel and Anna said in perfect unison, flinching. Michael had obviously told Rachel about the breakup and Anna had probably heard from Kali. How Ray didn't know was beyond Gabriel, though.

"What'd I say?" Ray asked, looking from Gabriel to Anna to Rachel.

"Raphael, I _told_ you this," Anna said, looking pained. She only used his full name when she was annoyed. She gave Gabriel an apologetic look. "You'll have to forgive him. I must have told him five times."

"_Oh_," Ray said, suddenly looking embarrassed. "Sorry, Gabe. I forgot."

Gabriel shrugged and turned his head toward the bartender without really looking. "Can I get a Screwdriver, please?"

"I'm glad you came, Gabriel," Rachel said. She smiled warmly. "Michael was worried you wouldn't show up."

Gabriel shrugged again. "I need to do some new things. Besides, Cas and Dean are here, and Dean's brother is showing up at some point." Hoping to deflect attention—he was getting really sick of the pitying looks people were giving him—he quickly said, "So, Anna, when are you gonna have your own show?"

"That's exactly what I've been telling her!" Rachel said, shaking Anna's shoulder playfully. "When are you going to let us show off all your lovely paintings?"

"I'm not that good," Anna mumbled, suddenly embarrassed. She blushed until her cheeks were nearly the same color as her fire-red hair.

"Screwdriver," said a familiar voice.

Gabriel almost gave himself whiplash from turning his head in the direction of that voice. Sure enough, it was Lu standing there in a black suit with Gabriel's drink in his hand.

"What the Hell are _you_ doing here?" Gabriel asked.

Lu shrugged. "I'm bartending until ten-thirty—then, I'm in charge of the music."

"Oh, _you're_ Lu Pellegrino?" Rachel asked. "Sorry, we're just used to dealing with Meg. Nice to meet you—I'm Rachel Milligan."

"Nice to meet you," Lu said, a slick smile spreading across his face.

Was it Gabriel's imagination, or was she blushing, too? A moment later, Rachel was saying, "Hang on, my husband is right over there. I know he'd want to meet you, too. Michael!"

_Oh, _this_ should be interesting_, Gabriel thought with a high degree of amusement. Michael hurried over and glanced from Rachel to Lu and back, the question on his face evident.

"Michael, this is the DJ Meg Masters sent over," Rachel explained.

"Oh, nice to meet you! Mike Milligan." He held out his hand and Lu shook it.

"Lu Pellegrino. Actually, I wanted to talk to both of you," Lu said, his smile widening. "Specifically, what kind of music you wanted me to play. I have basically everything in my library."

"Shinedown?"

"Three albums."

"Abney Park?"

"Six."

"VNV Nation?"

"Fifteen albums."

"Megadeth."

"Now I _know_ you're just teasing me," Lu joked, still smirking. "Two terabytes of music and you think I don't have Megadeth?"

"I think we need to have a talk," Michael said with a quick glance at Rachel. She nodded in agreement, grinning.

Gabriel took a swig of his Screwdriver to hide his grin as the three of them walked away.

"Um, what just happened?" Raphael asked. "Gabe, you know that guy?"

"He was like my best friend in high school. And to answer your first question, I'm not quite sure, but it was really funny. It looked like he was flirting with both of them."

"Oh, good. At least I'm not the only one who got that feeling," Anna laughed.

Gabriel finished off his drink and waved his goodbye to the Burbanks. He headed back to the bar and set the glass back on the bartop.

"What're you drinking?" another bartender in a black suit asked.

"Screwdriver. Make it a double."

"Long day?" said the man next to him.

Gabriel turned to look and the bottom nearly dropped out of his stomach. It was the hot cop he'd seen a few days earlier. It _had_ to be him—that was the same long, honey-brown hair, the same hazel eyes. That height didn't lie, either. This guy must have been close to six and a half feet tall. And that smile… Gabriel swallowed but smiled. "Yeah, kind of. Long week, actually. You?"

The cop shrugged, also smiling. "Wasn't so bad. Didn't I see you a few days? Outside of that Barnes & Noble?"

"Y-yeah, that was me. I thought I recognized you." He nodded, half-smiling.

"So who _are_ you, since it seems like you're stalking me?"

He grinned. "I'm not stalking you. Trust me—if I was, you'd know." He cleared his throat nervously. Well, this guy recognized him but didn't know who he was. He didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. "Gabriel, okay? They call me Gabriel."

"Hmm. I'm Sam," the cop said, still smiling. His eyes seemed to sparkle with laughter, but Gabriel raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

"You wouldn't happen to be Sam Winchester, would you?"

"Yeah, that's me."

_Damn! _That's_ Dean's brother?_ The universe was so unfair. It figured that the first person he was attracted to after Kali would be a freaking _Winchester_. "Wow. Your brother is kind of a dick," he said, mostly to gauge Sam's reaction. Honestly, this guy wasn't what he was expecting from a Winchester, but if he shared Dean's DNA, maybe the similarity was under the surface.

But Sam just laughed. "Yeah, he can be a douche sometimes. That would make you Gabriel Speight, right?"

"Yeah."

"You know, I hear from Dean that _you're_ kind of a dick, actually."

"There's a fine line between being a dick and being a trickster. I like to think that I fall on the right side of that line."

Sam laughed again and Gabriel felt himself smiling. He opened his mouth to say something—he wasn't quite sure what; he just knew he had to say _something_ to this guy—but someone else cut him off.

"Sammy! When did you get here?" It was Dean, appearing out of nowhere with Castiel in tow to throw off Gabriel's game. _Fuckin' Winchesters!_ he thought harshly, unsure if he was more annoyed with himself or Dean.

"Just a few minutes ago." Sam knocked back the rest of his drink and turned to face his brother. "I was about to try to hunt you down, but Gabriel found me first."

"I didn't realize you two knew each other," Dean said with a note of suspicion in his voice.

"We don't, not really," Sam explained cheerfully. "But we bumped into each other a few days ago and I'm pretty sure I saw him checking out my ass."

_Looks like I could learn a lesson from this guy._ Gabriel pointedly ignored Dean's sharp glare and pretended his ears weren't turning red.

"You checked out my brother's ass?"

_Well, _yeah_, muttonhead. Your brother's smoking hot._ "I'm hoping I can get a pass since I didn't know he was your brother." Fuck, this was _not_ how the night was supposed to go. The first flicker of romantic interest he'd had in the two weeks since Kali had dumped him, and it just had to be for Dean Winchester's baby brother. The universe must have decided that fucking with him was its hobby of the month.

"Actually—" Dean started, but Sam quickly interrupted.

"Hey, Cas! How have you been?"

"Hello, Sam. I'm fine. Are you enjoying your evening so far?"

"Yeah, can't complain." As Sam and Castiel continued talking and Dean continued trying to burst Gabriel into flames with his eyes, Gabriel looked around, wondering where Lu had gotten off to. Last he'd seen, about five minutes ago, he'd been heading toward Michael's office with the Milligans. That conversation couldn't take _that_ long, could it? He needed a completely neutral party to get Dean's focus off him. That, or he was just going to have to leave the immediate area.

Yeah, that was a good option. Gabriel quickly slunk away, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing server and trying to look casual. He was just going to have to make some new friends.

* * *

He finally located Lu close to an hour later, just a few minutes before he was set to start playing some music. The strawberry blonde was straightening his tie with a shit-eating grin on his face. "Hey, Gabe. Having fun?"

"Not really. Turns out I was flirting with Sam Winchester."

"Ooh," Lu said, flinching but still grinning.

Something about that grin didn't sit right with Gabriel. "Do you know him or something?"

"Yeah, I fucked him."

"What the _fuck_?!"

"Yeah, sorry," Lu laughed.

"Jesus."

"Is that them over there?"

Gabriel looked toward where Lu was looking and nodded. "Yeah."

"Who's that with Sam and Cas?"

"That's Dean, Cas's boyfriend and Sam's brother."

"Damn."

"What _now_?"

Lu grinned again. "Well, it's just that I'm only doing couples now, and I don't do the same people twice."

Everything screeched to a halt in Gabriel's head. "Wait—back the fuck up. Run that by me one more time. You're only doing _couples_?"

"Yeah. One person isn't a challenge. Fucking couples—specifically married couples—now _that's_ fun."

"So Mike and Rachel—"

"Nailed 'em."

"Both of them?

"Yep."

"Just now?"

"Yep."

"At the same time?"

"Yep."

"Oh, my God. And what the fuck did you mean, you don't do the same people twice?"

"I'm talking about Cas—_duh_. Who else would—"

"You fucked _Castiel Novak_?"

"Yeah, you didn't know that?"

"No, of _course_ I didn't know that! Fuck, when was this?"

"A few years ago. A long time before he started dating Dean and before I met Eve."

"Oh, my God. Since when have you been a total whore? I swear to God—"

"This is a fairly recent development. Just in the past few months, right after Eve dumped me. I figured that bitch cock-blocked me enough, so now I'm trying to make up for all my missed opportunities."

"Jesus. Is there _anyone_ at this party you haven't fucked?"

Lu scanned the crowd. "You mean, besides you and Dean and the other couple you and the Milligans were talking to earlier?"

"Yeah, besides them."

"There's like… five or six people here," Lu laughed.

"You're a terrible person," Gabriel said, shaking his head with a small smile.

"Yeah, we'll compare notes later. I have some records to spin."

As Lu hurried over to the DJ stand, Gabriel let his eyes wander back over to where Sam was standing, now talking with Ray and Anna. The whole night, he'd somehow been able to sense without meaning to exactly where Sam was. He knew that if anyone had noticed, he probably would have come off as incredibly creepy, but he couldn't help it. Something about Sam fried his brain. He couldn't think of anything interesting to say to him, something that would make him laugh or smile. He didn't like feeling this clueless. And then there was Dean, who quite obviously was opposed to _anyone_ taking an interest in his brother. That was kind of a problem, too.

"Creepy much?" _Speak of the Devil._ Dean had appeared out of nowhere. He was really going to have to work on being a bit more self-aware. People had been sneaking up on him way too much lately.

"No one asked your opinion."

"You're kind of far away for someone who obviously wants to talk to Sam."

"What, you're not gonna bite my head off?"

"Nah. That was just for Sam's benefit. Go fucking talk to him, okay? Play the famous-author card or something."

"I don't want someone to like me just because I happen to be a published novelist, okay? I want him to like me for me."

"Even better. Go make a fucking joke or something. You're good at that, right?"

"I guess I could ask him what his favorite doughnut is," Gabriel said, grinning.

"Sounds good enough to me." A moment later, Dean turned around and walked away.

_Okay, gonna go talk to Sam._ Gabriel knocked back the rest of his drink. _After one more of these._

* * *

**That thing about Lu was a total brainwave I had yesterday. I was listening to "F**k Him, He's a DJ" by Ke$ha (I think I take too many of her songs as inspiration. Maybe one day I'll write a fic based entirely on Ke$ha songs) and I was like IT'S LU, IT HAS TO BE. So yeah. He fucked Sam and Cas and Michael and Rachel. He is/I am shameless.**


	8. Chapter 8

**I got this churned out really quick. Let me just say, Lu is a funny bitch first thing in the morning. He was remarkably easy to write. (Also, I'm obsessed with Mark Pellegrino right now and I've discovered a lot of new pictures and gifs of him to use as references in this and my Balcifer fanfictions.)**

**If you haven't voted in the poll on my page already, go do it now! And thank you to all the people who've read and left reviews (I'll thank you by name next time; I'm just really trying to upload this ASAP). I really appreciate your support. #attackhug**

**This is for the lovely Mems, who gripped me tight and raised me from Perdition.**

* * *

Gabriel groaned, keeping his eyes closed. The room was spinning and he'd only been conscious for a few seconds. Where was the justice in that? Dizzily, he rubbed his forehead, which was pounding. He had a furious hangover, the worst he could remember. _Alright, that's it. I'm not drinking again._ Even as he thought the words, though, he knew they were a lie.

_What the Hell happened? And where the Hell am I?_ He slowly pried his eyes open before slamming them shut again with another groan. Jesus, it was bright in here. Gingerly, he braved the light again before closing his eyes nearly immediately. In frustration, he smacked the bed next to him.

"Hey! Watch it! Douche," a sleepy voice barked. The bed shifted as the person rolled over, but Gabriel felt his heart stop for one terrifying second. He wrenched his eyes open, ignoring the splitting pain in his head, and stared at the entirely hidden form next to him.

"Lu? Is that you?" _Please, do not be Lu. Please, be anyone but Lu Pellegrino._ He supposed it would have also sucked it if was Dean or Castiel, but apart from that, he couldn't give two shits.

"Yeah, dumbfuck. Who else would it be?" Lu rolled over again, giving Gabriel an annoyed look. He was wearing a wife beater shirt, which calmed Gabriel's heart rate a bit, but he still had no idea what happened.

"Is this your new apartment?" He glanced around briefly in an attempt to orient himself. He knew Lu had moved a few months ago, but he'd never actually been here before.

"Yeah. I guess you were too trashed to notice last night, though."

"Oh." Now that he'd adjusted to the light, his eyes and his head didn't hurt so badly. He looked around and noted with a small amount of relief that he didn't see any suspicious articles of clothing on the floor. Still, there was only one way to be sure. "So. What happened last night?"

Lu groaned in frustration and then yawned. "Well, I don't know what was going on with you, but when I finally stopped spinning at midnight, you were already pretty well hammered. You kept saying, 'I'm gonna go talk to Sam. I'm gonna go talk to Sam.' It was actually kind of funny."

Gabriel felt his eyes widen in horror. "I didn't really talk to him like that, did I?" Oh, God, if he had, it would have made the worst fucking impression in the world.

Lu scoffed. "Fuck, no. I kept you away from him. I don't know where Dean and Castiel were for awhile so I just made sure you didn't overdo it. Then I brought you back here since I didn't know where your keys were. Or your apartment, for that matter."

"So… we didn't… y'know, have sex, right?" That, after all, was what he was trying to figure out.

Lu covered his eyes for a minute and sighed in resignation. "Jesus, Gabe. I told you. I'm only doing couples now. And I don't fuck drunk people. That's just asking for trouble. And I especially don't fuck people I've been friends with for ten years." He yawned again. "But congratulations. You're the first person who's woken up in this bed that I _haven't_ slept with."

Gabriel laughed with relief. "Thank God for your moral code. I had a mini heart attack. I mean, I really thought that we…" He laughed nervously. "But we didn't, so that's what counts."

Lu rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Trust me, your virtue is safe with me." He rolled back over and pulled the covers over his head again. "Now if you'll excuse me, there's a pair of hot blondes I want to get back to."

Something else finally struck Gabriel as weird. "Why am I in your bed? As opposed to on your couch or something, I mean. 'Cause that would have made this morning a lot less awkward." He waited for an answer, and when there wasn't one, he picked up his pillow and smacked Lu's head with it. "Hey! Lu!"

Lu glared at him from under the comforter. "Considering I did you a very big favor last night, you're being extremely obnoxious." When Gabriel met his glare with a bored stare, he groaned again. "Alright, what was the fucking question?"

"I _said_, why am I in your bed and not on the couch?"

"Because of my 'moral code,' douche-wagon. You're my friend, not some random schmuck from Perdition. I figured that, even with you drunk, sharing a bed would be relatively awkwardness-free. Who the fuck makes one of their best friends sleep on the couch? No, fuck that. Now would you go the fuck back to sleep?"

Gabriel snorted with laughter. "Your karma is definitely in the positive area right now. You've got something good coming your way."

"Yeah, whatever," Lu mumbled, pulling the covers over his head again.

Gabriel grimaced and eased himself off the bed. He was still in his shirt and tuxedo pants from last night. He was definitely going to have to get them dry-cleaned now. "I'm just gonna go grab some aspirin. I've got the hangover from Hell."

"Color me completely unsurprised."

Gabriel found the bathroom fairly easily; it was adjacent to the bedroom. He closed the door before he flipped on the lights because they would have been shining right into Lu's eyes. As much as he loved messing with people, especially Lu, a pissed-off Lu first thing in the morning wouldn't think twice about punching him in the face.

After downing four aspirin and about eight glasses of water, he finally caught sight of his reflection and grimaced. He looked like a fucking mess. His hair was falling into his eyes, he looked pale except for garish splotches of color on his cheeks, and there were circles under his eyes. He sighed and patted down his pockets for his phone.

_10% or less remaining. Plug in your charger now._ "Great," he muttered, turning his phone off. He pocketed it again and turned off the lights before heading back out. "Hey. Where's your phone?"

"I swear to God, I will stab you," Lu said sleepily. Keeping his eyes closed, he reached into his nightstand and threw his cell phone at Gabriel. The shorter man caught it and started dialing for a taxi. He had to get back home. He needed a shower and shave and a change of clothes, he needed to call Castiel and let him know he was okay, he needed to call Roché… His list was ridiculous.

"You working tonight?" he asked Lu as the phone rang in his ear.

Lu mumbled something unintelligible that Gabriel didn't even try to decipher. A woman picked up and said, "First Taxi, how can I help you?"

Gabriel managed to get Lu's address before the strawberry-blonde threw the other pillow at his head. The shorter man dodged it easily and finally hung up, setting Lu's phone back on the nightstand. "Okay, so my cab's coming in about ten minutes. Where the fuck is my jacket? And my shoes, for that matter."

"Shoes by the chair. Your jacket's in the closet. If you're going to keep making noise, kindly remove yourself from my bedroom. Don't make me kill you."

* * *

The moment Gabriel got back to his apartment, he plugged in his phone and went right to the shower. He spent a good twenty minutes under the stream, turning the water as hot as he could stand and leaning his head against the wall. His headache had subsided to a dull pressure just above his left eye, but it was still another half an hour before he reluctantly turned off the water. After wrapping up in a towel, he went back to his phone (now at 40% battery, thank you very much) and checked his new messages. He had one from Dean, one from Michael, three from Castiel, and two from Roché. He rolled his eyes.

The text message from Dean said, _Hey, did you ever go talk to Sam?_ Gabriel rubbed the bridge of his nose and sent a reply. _No, I didn't. Apparently I was almost too smashed to function. My buddy Lu kept me from making an ass of myself._

The one from Michael said, _Do you know that Lu Pellegrino guy?_ That actually made Gabriel snort with laughter. _Yeah, I know him. I didn't know he was going to be there until I saw him, though._

Castiel's messages said, _Gabriel, where are you? Dean and I have been looking for you everywhere._ The next one read, _Gabriel, answer your phone._ The next one (sent after a missed call from both Castiel and Dean) read, _Gabriel, we can't find you. Dean has to work in the morning so we're leaving. Call me when you get this._

Gabriel sighed and called Castiel. The line rang for all of about four seconds before his friend picked up. "Gabriel?"

"Hey, Cas. What's up?"

"Are you okay? We lost track of you around one. We couldn't find you anywhere."

"Yeah, I'm not sure where I was, but I'm home now. Lu kept me out of trouble. I crashed at his place."

Castiel sighed with relief. "Well, that's good. I'm glad you didn't wake up in a tub of ice, missing your kidneys."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow in mild horror. "Yeah, that makes two of us. So…" He chuckled nervously. "I had a good time last night. How about you?"

"Yeah, I had a good time. That artwork was quite impressive, actually. I'm probably going to the next show they have, too. I think Dean rather enjoyed himself, too."

"Alright. Well, I have a few more calls to return so I'll let you go."

"Thanks for calling back."

"Yeah, no problem." He hung up and went to his messages from Roché. The first one read, _Gabriel, I hope you kept yourself out of trouble last night. Call or text me when you get a minute so I know you're alive._ The other one said, _Since I hear so many people talking about Perdition, I'm probably going there tonight. Feel free to join me if you don't have plans._ Gabriel snorted with laughter and sent his reply. _Wow, Roché, are you asking me on a date? ALREADY? You're great and all, but I don't really like blondes._ Still, he wasn't sure why, but he felt like going to Perdition tonight anyway. He needed to blow off a little steam, and since last night hadn't gone exactly as planned, he figured he should go basically by himself. That way, he wouldn't be tempted to get wasted.

By the time he got dressed and poured himself a bowl of Lucky Charms, Roché had answered. _Ha-ha-ha. Glad to see you've got your sense of __humour__ back. Do you think you'll be there or not?_

Gabriel yawned once before answering. _Yeah, probably. I'll let you know if I change my mind, though._ He threw back the rest of his cereal before heading back to bed. He had a feeling he'd be up late tonight.

* * *

A dubstep remix of some rock song was blaring through the speakers of Perdition when Gabriel arrived there twelve hours later. It was an interesting combination, to say the least. He handed over the ten dollars for a cover charge, waited for Chuck to slap him with a wristband, and went inside.

Apparently, Lu's inarticulate mumble had been an affirmative one, because the moment Gabriel swung his head, there he was, pouring four drinks at once. Relieved, he made a beeline right for his friend.

"Oh, great, it's _you_," Lu said sarcastically. He pushed the drinks toward their respective owners and glanced around the bar. "Did you want something, or are you just here to annoy the holy Hell out of me?" One of the people at the bar caught his eye and he moved a few feet away to get his order.

"Trust me, I'm not gonna be hanging around here very much. I'm having one drink, maybe two. But I really overdid it last night."

"Hell, yeah, you did," Lu said. He splashed a double shot of Jack Daniels in a small glass and poured some Coke into it. Once he made change for the ten the guy paid him with, he went right back to Gabriel. "But I'm glad to see you're still alive. So, do you want your one drink now, or later?"

"I'll probably swing by in a few minutes to get it." He pulled out his phone and texted Roché: _I'm at the bar._ "I'm actually gonna head to the bathroom, but I'll be back in a minute."

Lu gave him a mock salute and returned his attention to the other customers.

By the time he went back into the main bar area, he saw his agent hovering there, looking a bit dazed. He saw Gabriel just as Gabriel saw him and he seemed to snap out of his trance. "Hey, Roché," Gabriel said. "What's up?"

"Not much. Just waiting for you, that's all."

"Oh. Sorry." Gabriel grinned. "Let's get a drink."

Roché glanced toward the bar, as if sizing it up. "Alright."

They sat down and Lu came right back over. "Hey, Gabe," he said easily, cheerfully, as if it hadn't been just five minutes since they'd seen each other last. Then his eyes flicked over to Roché and the bartender grinned. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry—Lu, this is my agent, Balthazar Roché. Balthazar, this is my friend from high school, Lu Pellegrino."

Lu's grin widened. "Oh, wow, so _you're_ Balthazar?"

"I am. What has Gabriel told you about me?"

"Don't answer that," Gabriel ordered. Lu just laughed, though.

"Mostly that you're a huge asshole."

"Alright, screw this. I'm out of here." Gabriel hopped right off his barstool and headed into the crush of people on the dance floor.

The song transitioned smoothly from some hip-hop bullshit that Gabriel couldn't stand to a dance remix of some Top 40 song he didn't recognize. He weaved his way through the crowd, trying not to bump into too many people, but then one guy just stepped right in front of him. Gabriel was just about to skirt past him when a voice he definitely recognized said, "Gabe? Is that you?"

"Sam?" Gabriel peered up at the form towering over him. Yes, that was definitely Sam Winchester in front of him. He felt his heart skitter to a half for a moment, but he wasn't drunk this time at least. Maybe he could actually talk to him now.

"Hey! I wasn't expecting to see you here! How are you?"

Gabriel grinned. "I'm great. I wasn't expecting to see you, either. Did you have fun last night? I'm sorry I kind of disappeared." He kept his smile on his face. "I've had a lot of crap happening lately." He hoped he wasn't babbling. He just really liked seeing that smile on Sam's face. It encouraged him.

"Yeah, it was pretty cool. Where _did_ you get off to, anyway? I found Dean and Cas later and they had no clue where you were. We were kind of worried about you."

_He said "we"! He was worried, too!_ That shouldn't have filled him with a sense of relief, but it did. "I was trying to think of something interesting to say," he half-joked. "The best I came up with was, 'What's your favorite doughnut?'"

Sam laughed. "Apple cinnamon. No one's ever asked me that before."

Gabriel's cheeks were starting to hurt, but he couldn't stop smiling. He put his hand on Sam's arm. "Wanna go somewhere and talk?"

Sam was still smiling. "I'd love to."

* * *

**Perdition is based off this gay bar I used to go to when I was living in Pensacola called Emerald City. If you're in the area, I recommend it. That being said, Perdition is not a gay bar. It's an "all-communities-welcome" bar, just like Hell is. Except there's fewer religious whackjobs in Perdition than there are in Hell.**

**Also, since I mentioned several of Lucifer's conquests in the previous chapter (read: Sam and Castiel), if I were to write the recounting of those trysts, would anyone read that? Samifer? Casifer? Yes/no?**


	9. Chapter 9

**So. I listened to "I Caught Fire" by The Used 40 times while writing this. I knew exactly what I wanted to do but IT WAS SO FREAKING DIFFICULT. But I finished, so awesome.**

**Many thanks to cugi-terl, aLoggedInReader, Keefer, bunnygirl2012, alias093001, Kathrin J Pearl, Chaotic-Theoretician, and tmmdeathwishraven for your reviews on the last chapter. Love you guys!**

**For Mems, who gripped me tight and raised me from Perdition.**

* * *

On the Perdition rooftop, a cool wind was blowing through, offering some relief in the otherwise-sweltering evening. It was a welcoming change from the loud, stifling club below them. Both Gabriel and Sam, the latter with a drink in hand, ascended the stairs to find three or four other groups of people standing around and chatting quietly. "Nice night," Sam said, tilting his head toward the stars above them.

Gabriel looked up, too. "I've seen better," he joked. When Sam let out a snort of laughter, Gabriel grinned and asked, "So Dean never told me that he had a brother. Where have you been hiding since Cas started dating him?"

Sam looked down at him and chuckled. "Nowhere in particular. I'm guessing that it just wasn't that important. You and Dean don't hang out all that much, do you? And when you do, Cas is there."

"Good point." To hide his nerves, he pulled a Twix out of his jacket and unwrapped it. "Want one?" He waved the candy at Sam, who grinned and shook his head.

"No, thanks. The only junk food I eat is the occasional doughnut."

"Fair enough." He took a huge bite out of one of the Twix. "That because of the cop thing, or…?"

Sam shrugged. "I just like to eat healthy. No need for me to have a heart attack at forty like Dean's cruising to do. After my dad…" Sam's voice suddenly trailed off.

A million possibilities raced through Gabriel's head. He had no idea what Sam and Dean's dad had to do with anything since Dean never mentioned him, either—in fact, he didn't talk about his family at all around Gabriel—but it seemed likely he wasn't around. "I'm sorry, kiddo. We don't have to talk about this."

"No, it's fine. I just haven't thought about him in awhile. He had a heart attack a few years ago. He used to be in the Marines, so we thought he was in pretty good shape, but he wasn't. He ate like Dean does and I used to. After that, I reevaluated and decided to make a change."

"I'm sorry about your dad, Sam. Dean never talks about him, either."

Sam shook his head, smiling to himself. "He wouldn't. He keeps stuff like that buried inside him. If something bothers him, he'll just sulk about it for awhile, but he won't talk about it. At least, not to me. Maybe he talks to Cas, though. Obviously, I wouldn't know, but I hope he's able to get Dean to open up."

Gabriel nodded. "Yeah. It would be nice to have that kind of relationship. Knowing you could talk about anything, that's special." He cleared his throat. "So, I didn't drag you away from your friends or anything, did I? Is someone gonna miss you if you're up here too long?"

"Nah. I mean, I came with my friend Jess, but I think she was more interested in meeting new people tonight. She probably won't be bothered if I stay out here for awhile. What about you? You didn't come by yourself, did you?"

"No, I—fuck," he said suddenly. He gave a brief laugh. "I completely forgot. I came here with my agent and I have no idea where he is now."

"Agent?" Sam asked as Gabriel pulled out his phone. "You have an agent? What, are you an actor or something?"

Gabriel snorted with laughter. "Hardly. I probably couldn't act my way out of a paper bag. No, I… Hang on." He sent a text to Roché: _Where the fuck did you go?_ After he hit send, he looked back up at Sam. "No, I'm a writer. He's pretty cool, even though he can be a massive douche sometimes."

"A writer?" Dean hinted the night before that Sam might appreciate that, and the look on the younger Winchester's face right now indicated that Dean was right. Gabriel couldn't help feeling a little smug about that fact, but he also knew this could backfire. He wanted Sam to like him for _him_, not the fact that he was a published novelist. "Like, full-time or do you have another job?"

Gabriel shook his head, smiling. "Nope. I got published about six months ago. After I got that first royalty check, I quit my job. I used to work at a gallery—not The Garrison, a different one. But they knew how much it meant to me, so they were cool with it."

"Anything I would have read?"

Gabriel shrugged. "I don't know what you read." He grinned. "You look like an Oprah's Book Club type, though, and in that case, I doubt it, unless Oprah starts reading science fiction."

Sam laughed. His laugh made Gabriel smile like nothing else had in the past few weeks. It was actually kind of nice to be around someone who didn't know about the crap with Kali. Castiel and Roché and even Lu had all given him pitying looks and he hated that. He didn't want their pity.

His phone chose that moment to buzz, announcing Roché's reply. _I'm currently in the back, getting ready to shag your friend Lu._ He scoffed and rolled his eyes, pocketing his phone. _Whatever._ If Roché wanted to lie to him, so be it.

"Yeah, you're right," Sam was saying. "That doesn't sound like her at all. But you quit your job, so it must be paying pretty well, right?"

He shrugged again. "Yeah, I got a nice bit of cash from the whole deal. People aren't really recognizing me on the street just yet, which is actually a relief. Once that happens—_if_ that happens," he corrected himself, "then I'll pretty much just have to Parkour everywhere I go with a black ski mask and just never stop running."

Sam laughed again, and when he finally stopped, there was still amusement behind his eyes. "I could definitely see you as a human pinball. Would you provide your own sound effects, or would you have someone following you around with a boom box or something?"

"Only one person? That's for amateurs. I'll have a whole team of people chasing after me. Although I suppose that would probably render going unnoticed completely futile. Oh, well. Sacrifices must be made."

Sam was still smiling and Gabriel was grinning right back. He suddenly wished there wasn't an eight-inch difference in their heights because he had the very strong urge to kiss Sam right then. It wasn't easy to do when you had to stand on your tiptoes just to meet the other person's mouth. Fortunately, Sam seemed to sense what Gabriel was thinking because a moment later, he leaned down and kissed him, letting his lips linger against Gabriel's for a few moments before pulling away.

Just a simple kiss like that had him grinning like an idiot, heart racing. All he could think was that _damn_, he really liked kissing Sam. He tried not to let it show too much, but it seemed almost physically impossible for him to _not_ smile. Fortunately, Sam was still smiling, too, so he figured that was probably a good sign.

"So you said you came here with your agent?"

"Yeah. Well, not really—we didn't arrive together or anything. We just met here, that's all. He claims he's about to fuck Lu Pellegrino, but I doubt that," he added, snorting with laughter.

Sam laughed in both surprise and amusement. "You _doubt_ that? Have you _met_ the guy? He doesn't strike me as the type to say no."

"Oh, trust me, I know Lu. He's been my friend since high school. But he told me just last night that he's only doing couples now, so the joke's on Roché." Gabriel gave an exaggerated shrug as Sam nearly choked on his drink.

"He—_what_? I think I may have misheard you." Sam looked stunned as he tried to process what Gabriel had just said.

"Yeah, apparently he's done having sex with one person at a time. He also told me last night that he did the Milligans last night—you know, Mike and Rachel. The owner of The Garrison and his wife."

Sam started laughing again, covering his face and doubling over. "Oh, my God. He's insane or something. Is he really…?"

Gabriel grinned. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure he was being serious. Mike and Rachel both looked really weird for the rest of the night. Like, 'Did we actually just do that' with a little bit of 'Damn, that was fun.'"

Sam finally regained control, straightening up and taking another swig from his cup. A small smile still remained on his face, though. "So you just met your agent here? If you don't mind me asking, why? This is kind of a strange place for a business meeting, you know?"

"Well, it was really his idea. He told me he'd heard a lot about this place and was planning on checking it out tonight, and since I'd already basically decided I was going to be here anyway, we kind of just met up. There wasn't anything altogether intentional about it. Blondes aren't really my type, anyway," he added, eliciting another laugh from Sam.

Then Sam asked something that took him completely by surprise. "Want to go dance?" he asked, grabbing him by the wrist and gently tugging him back toward the stairs.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, letting himself be pulled along. "Alright, but I'm warning you now—I'm amazing. Try not to act completely impressed," he joked.

"You're terrible, aren't you?" Sam asked with a grin, pausing on the first stair and turning to meet Gabriel's gaze.

"Awful. It's embarrassing for me and everyone around me," Gabriel laughed. From this height, he was at Sam's eye level. He could finally see that, even in the low light, Sam's eyes were a stunning hazel he'd never seen before. Suddenly, he couldn't look away. "I like to think I deserve an 'A' for effort, though."

Laughing again, Sam shook his head. Gabriel took advantage of their current lack of height disparity and pressed his lips to Sam's. A moment later, Sam was leaning into the kiss, running his fingers over the back of Gabriel's neck. The shorter man's heart started racing again as he inched closer and slid his arm around Sam's shoulders. He couldn't resist brushing back Sam's hair—Gabriel used to think that his hair was pretty long, but Sam's was on a whole different level. But it was soft and he just wanted to twist his fingers through it and never let go.

"Well, I didn't want to dance anyway," Sam said softly when they finally broke the kiss. He didn't move either of his hands—not the one at the back of Gabriel's neck and not the one that had looped around his waist. It was nice and Gabriel found himself settling into Sam, lacing his fingers together behind his back.

"Good. You might never have spoken to me after what was bound to be a pathetic display."

Sam shook his head solemnly. "You're right. I would have been so horrified that, out of concern for my social standing, I'd have had to break Dean and Cas up just to make sure you were no longer involved in my social circle."

Gabriel snorted with laughter. "Easy on the one-liners, kiddo. A gal's likely to take them seriously."

"Seriously?" Sam leaned forward and lightly kissed him for a moment. "I kind of wanted to get out of here anyway."

Gabriel smiled. "One question. How much have you had to drink?"

"Nothing, actually. I've been drinking water all night. I never drink at clubs—it's a recipe for disaster." He smiled. "Fretting over my virtue?"

"The thought may have crossed my mind."

"Well, I promise I'm not drunk." Sam briefly ran his fingers through Gabriel's hair. "So what do you think?"

"I think not being here is an acceptable proposal."

Sam couldn't help laughing at Gabriel's goofy grin.

* * *

By the time they arrived at Gabriel's apartment, the writer was so distracted that it took him ten seconds to find his keys. He finally located them in his jacket, pulling back from Sam long enough to fit the key in the lock, before stumbling through the door, dragging Sam with him. Fumbling with the lights with one hand and Sam's jacket with the other, the taller man finally shoved Gabriel against the wall and tugged off both their jackets.

With Sam leaning against him, holding him against the wall, his brain was short-circuiting. He kept running his fingers through Sam's hair, trying to pull him closer even though it was a physical impossibility with their clothes on. But he didn't want to keep their clothes on, so it ended up working itself out when he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Sam let his hands slide down Gabriel's sides and the smaller man felt himself aching for his touch, for more skin-to-skin contact, for friction as his jeans felt almost unbearably tight. He let his fingertips drift down to Sam's hips before bringing them back up, dragging his shirt along, finally feeling Sam's stomach and chest as he lifted his shirt higher. Sam leaned back for a moment to sweep his shirt off before pressing his mouth back to Gabriel's, moaning softly when Gabriel parted his lips.

The first time Sam's tongue traced across his lips and swept into his mouth, it was almost explosive. Gabriel groaned, digging his nails into Sam's back, welcoming the sensations Sam elicited from a mere touch. He instinctively rutted against Sam and moaned, digging in his nails, as Sam's jeans rubbed against his. Gabriel groaned again, feeling like a teenager alone with his crush for the first time, pulling open Sam's belt and whining as the younger man ground his denim-clad hips against Gabriel's. Then Sam was unbuckling Gabriel's belt and Gabriel pushed at Sam's jeans, letting his fingers drag against Sam's skin. Sam moaned softly and kicked off his shoes, pushing his jeans completely off before sliding his hands around to Gabriel's ass and squeezing. The smaller man managed to pull himself together long enough to realize where they were and started laughing.

"What?" Sam asked, pulling back a bit and grinning at his laughter.

"We're still in the hallway," he choked out through his giggles.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "Well, so we are. And?"

Still struggling to contain his laughter, Gabriel slung his arms around Sam's waist and started leading him toward the closest room, his office. He pulled Sam down for another kiss, trailing his fingers through Sam's hair. Sam scraped his teeth over Gabriel's lower lip and unbuttoned his jeans, sliding his hands under the denim. Gabriel moaned, raking his nails over Sam's back, and then spun the chair in front of his computer around, pushing Sam into it. before settling onto his lap and straddling him. He felt Sam smiling into the kiss, running his hands over his back and up his sides, sending bolts of pleasure through him.

For several long minutes, they simply kissed, enjoying the feeling of just touching and being touched. Gabriel toed out of his shoes without breaking the kiss, pressing himself closer to Sam. He moaned softly as Sam unzipped his jeans and cupped his ass, drawing a shudder from the writer. He nibbled at Sam's lips for a moment before pushing back and sliding off his lap. "Hang on," he murmured, shimmying out of his jeans. He climbed back onto Sam's lap and pressed another kiss to his lips, grinding his ass against Sam's erection. The taller man groaned and dug his nails into Gabriel's hips.

"Just planning on teasing me all night?" Sam half-joked, his pupils blown wide to leave a thin ring of hazel visible. "Or were you planning on actually doing something?"

Gabriel grinned. "I was thinking about actually doing something. Just thinking about it, though." When Sam let out a low growl of frustration, Gabriel's grin widened. "Just kidding, Sam." He gave Sam another light kiss, secretly relieved that he could easily meet his mouth now, and reached behind him to pull open a drawer of his desk. Pulling back and still grinning, he handed Sam a condom and a bottle of lubricant. He shifted in Sam's lap just long enough to pull off his boxers and then went right back to straddling the younger man.

Sam set the condom on the desk behind him and scraped his teeth over Gabriel's neck. Gabriel shuddered and closed his eyes, bracing his hands on Sam's shoulders. He heard the snap of the bottle opening and another as Sam closed it, and then there was the press of one of his fingers against his entrance. He bit down on his lip and dug his nails into Sam's shoulders, letting out a faint hiss.

"You okay?" Sam asked into his neck.

"Y-yeah. It's just been awhile, that's all." He combed his fingers through Sam's hair and loosened his hold on his shoulders.

"Want me to keep going?"

Gabriel nodded. "Yeah. I want this." He breathed into his ear, "I want _you_."

He was trembling by the time Sam had him completely open, panting breathlessly and whimpering, "Please, Sammy." He rocked his hips against Sam's fingers, letting out a ragged moan when he hit that spot. "I'm ready. Sammy, please…"

Sam moaned softly into Gabriel's neck and withdrew his fingers. Gabriel gasped and shifted his weight to help Sam tug off his boxers. As soon as they were off, Sam reached behind him and tore open the condom wrapper, and Gabriel moved back to allow him to roll it on. Another palmful of lubricant slicked across Sam's cock and Sam was whispering, "Ready?" Gabriel nodded quickly, raising himself so Sam could position himself underneath him. He inhaled sharply and sank onto Sam's length.

"Oh, God, Sam!" Gabriel gasped. He closed his eyes let out a whine as Sam rocked his hips, digging his nails into his shoulders and meeting his thrust. Sam wrapped his arms tightly around him, holding him close and thrusting again. "God, Sam! Yes!" Panting heavily, he rutted against Sam and cried out when Sam's cock hit his prostate. He felt Sam's lips grazing the curve of his neck again and twisted his fingers into Sam's hair. The younger man's hands were all over him, running over his back, up and down his sides, across his shoulders, into his hair, down his legs. His gentle caresses had Gabriel riding him harder, willing himself closer to Sam, but feeling freer than he had in weeks. He dipped his head to lick a path up Sam's neck, and the taller man shuddered, tightening the grip he had on Gabriel's hips. "I love it when you do that," he murmured into Gabriel's neck.

"Yeah?" Even breathless, he still managed to maintain a teasing tone. "What about when I do this?" He licked at the spot right behind Sam's ear, then locked down, sucking on his skin and trying to leave a mark. Sam groaned loudly, thrusting into Gabriel harder.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed when he finally caught his breath. "That, too."

"Good to know." Gabriel grinned into Sam's skin and rocked his hips against Sam again, meeting his thrust. He gasped when Sam hit that bundle of nerves again, sending sparks across his vision. No matter how much he pretended for Sam, he was slowly losing control. He struggled not to just mindlessly ride him, but when Sam wrapped his fingers around Gabriel's cock, it was over. With a pathetic-sounded keening, he sank his nails back into Sam's shoulders and gyrated his hips, drawing a low moan from the younger man. Again and again, he rocked against Sam, and every time, Sam's length brushed against his prostate and sent another shudder through Gabriel's body. The writer moaned loudly every time Sam stroked his cock, keeping in time with the rhythm Gabriel set up. He was getting closer and every passing second made it harder to hold back. Just as he felt that aching heat curling in the pit of his stomach, Sam pulled him closer, breathing, "God, Gabe, you feel so good."

"Jesus, Sammy!" he gasped, fisting his fingers in Sam's hair. A moment later, he was arching against him, moaning as he came, Sam's hand still on his cock and still pumping. As if from somewhere far away, he heard Sam moaning, too, and realized he must be coming as well. Sam's free arm was around him, pinning him to Sam's chest, and as their heartbeats slowed, Gabriel closed his eyes and buried his face in Sam's neck.

Gabriel and Sam stayed like that for a few minutes, catching their breath and still hanging on to each other. It finally sank in, what they'd just done, and he wondered where it went from here. This, right here, holding Sam, was the happiest he'd been in a long time—even before Kali left him. Now that he was looking back, she'd always been rather cold and distant, but Sam wasn't like that. He was warm and friendly and just so caring. It actually scared Gabriel a little, just how much Sam was able to change his whole mood so quickly.

"Did you want me to leave?" Sam asked, startling Gabriel out of his thoughts.

Without thinking, he shook his head, then quickly added, "I mean, you don't have to leave if you don't want to. My bed's big enough for both of us, even if you are the size of a moose."

Sam laughed and brushed a few strands of hair behind Gabriel's ear. "I'm okay with staying for the night if you're okay with it. Just lead the way."

Gabriel nodded, finally managing to tear his gaze from the younger Winchester's eyes, and slid off Sam's lap. He set to work gathering the few articles of their clothing that were strewn across the office floor as Sam threw away the condom. Deciding to leave the shirts, jackets, and Sam's jeans where they were in the hallway, he grabbed Sam by the hand and led him to the bedroom. He tossed the clothes on the floor and climbed into bed, indicating for Sam to do the same. Sam smiled and crawled in next to Gabriel. Automatically, he reached out for the shorter man and pulled him close.

"Aw, are we spooning, Sammy?" he joked.

Sam immediately pulled his arm back. "Sorry. Did you not—?"

Gabriel turned back to look at him. "I was just kidding, Sam. It's fine." He offered up a smile. "I like it, okay?" He grabbed Sam's arm and pulled it back over him. The taller man snuggled a little closer to him, cradling Gabriel to his chest, and that night, for the first night in weeks, Gabriel slept and didn't dream of Kali.

* * *

**So, because I'm sure you're all wondering now, yes, Balthazar and Lucifer had sex. And yes, their tryst will be posted. Yes, it is done. By the time you read this, I bet it's posted.**

**I'm just awesome, okay?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Not too terribly long, but rather fluffy. I need some fluff, considering I depressed the fuck out of myself with "Clipped Wings" and "Shockwaves." (I remembered why I never wanted to write Balcifer in canon. There's no way you're going to end with something other than depression.)**

**Speaking of depression, the next chapter gets really bad. Just...brace yourselves.**

**For Mems, who gripped me tight and raised me from Perdition. For Nikki, who adores Sabriel.**

* * *

Gabriel woke up early the next morning. Golden sunlight streamed in through the window, drenching the whole room in a heavenly glow. For a few long moments, he lazily ran his fingers over Sam's arm, still slung across his body. He felt himself smiling for no real reason other than the fact that Sam was still there, that last night had actually happened. There was a strange sort of comfort in feeling Sam's body pressed against his, holding him tightly and almost protectively. They breathed in tandem and Gabriel could feel Sam's heart beating against his back and feel the pulse point in his wrist. He felt connected to Sam, as crazy as it seemed, and he liked that feeling. The whole moment was utterly divine.

He wasn't quite sure how much more time passed but it couldn't have been more than ten or fifteen minutes before Sam shifted behind him, slowly waking up. "Hey. You awake?" Sam asked softly. He seemed to be genuinely unsure of the state of Gabriel's consciousness and unwilling to wake him up if he wasn't already alert. The writer smiled to himself.

"Yeah, I'm up. Morning," he added, turning his head a bit to catch Sam's eye. His smile widened as those beautiful hazel eyes of his reflected back the golden light. "Hungry? I can make pancakes."

Sam gave him a funny look for a moment before finally returning Gabriel's smile. "Yeah, that sounds good, actually. I mean, I'm probably not going to eat very many, but—"

"Don't worry, Sam. I do have healthy food in the fridge, too." He poked at Sam's not-at-all-pudgy stomach. "Blueberries?"

Sam actually laughed at that. "Yeah. Yeah, sure." He gently reached out and petted Gabriel's hair, brushing the now-unruly waves away from his face. "Since you're going to be making pancakes, do you mind if I take a quick shower? I may not have time before work," he added quickly.

"Of course. Bathroom's over there." Gabriel pointed toward the far wall, near the window, where the door to the bathroom was closed. He stretched out as he felt the bed shift under Sam's weight moving to the edge and off. As soon as the door closed—and locked, he noted with a small amount of dissatisfaction; it's not like he planned on insinuating himself into Sam's shower or anything—he rolled off the bed and pulled on the first clean pair of boxers he could find. Now suitably dressed for a Sunday morning, he dug through Sam's jeans pockets, hunting for the taller man's phone. He huffed in annoyance when he couldn't find it and looked around.

As if on cue, he heard a faint buzzing from the other side of the bed, the side that Sam had slept on. More specifically, it sounded like it was coming from the nightstand, so Gabriel slunk over and found Sam's phone protesting its dying battery. It looked like Gabriel's charger would fit his phone, though, so he unplugged his phone—which had a ninety-percent charge—and plugged in Sam's. He quickly added his name and number to Sam's contact list and sent a text message to his own phone so he'd have Sam's number. As soon as he heard his own phone buzz, he set down Sam's, picked up his, and went to the kitchen.

By the time he was flipping over the pancakes, Sam was wandering into the kitchen as well, now fully dressed. He looked much more awake than he had twenty minutes ago. He also looked very awkward, standing in the middle of the kitchen. It wasn't very big to begin with, but he seemed to take up half the space. It made Gabriel grin. "Did you plug in my phone?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. It was making all sorts of annoying sounds. I couldn't take it anymore." He smirked and pointed with the spatula toward the table. "Can you bring the plates over here?"

As Sam set the plates on the counter next to the stove, he pressed a quick kiss to Gabriel's hair. The shorter man's smile became more genuine for a moment. "Aw, Sammy, you sure know how to show a girl a good time."

Sam answered with a deep laugh and ran his fingers through the golden locks. "Need me to do anything else? Get some orange juice or milk?"

"You can have whatever you see in there. Get me a Pepsi Maxx." When Sam stared at him for a minute, Gabriel raised an eyebrow and smirked a little more. "Oh, you think I'm joking again. That's cute. No, Sam, I'm being serious. In fact, I don't think I've ever been more serious in my life."

Sam laughed again.

He had to leave right after they were finished with breakfast. It was a bit awkward when he left, neither of them sure what to say, so they settled for a clumsy hug (mostly due to the height difference) and hasty goodbyes. As soon as the door closed behind Sam, Gabriel let out a nervous laugh and went to check the messages on his phone.

Aside from two from Castiel, there was a third sent around an hour before. It wasn't a ten-digit number. It was a contact saved as _Sam W._

Gabriel grinned, feeling his heart lighten considerably. So. Sam had hijacked his phone the night before. He thought he'd felt the bed shifting sometime around two. It appeared Sam had a bit of a trickster in him, too.

* * *

When he dropped by Roché's office the next morning, it was much more cheerfully than a few weeks before. He'd been idly texting back and forth with Sam for the past few hours, which contributed to his lifted mood, but he knew Roché would appreciate the other piece of news he had. Namely, he had started writing again. He wasn't quite sure why, but he'd been slammed with the sudden, overwhelming impulse to write yesterday afternoon, and before he knew it, he had two thousand words added to his word count. It wasn't much—barely half a chapter—but it was enough. It was more than he'd written in weeks, and it filled him with satisfaction.

The taller blonde set his cell phone down as Gabriel entered his office. "Ah, good to see you. I had actually been wondering if you were even going to show up today." Though his words sounded harsh, there was a smile on the agent's face. "Didn't hear from you after Saturday night, you see."

Gabriel shrugged, grinning. "I was busy. By the way, that joke about Lu—that was funny. I got a good laugh out of that."

Roché's eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement for a moment. "What joke?" His phone trilled annoyingly on his desk but he ignored it.

"When you said you were about to sleep with him. I mean, he used to be like that, but I know for a fact he's only doing couples now. At least, that was the case on Friday night."

"I wasn't joking. I was being quite serious. You can ask him yourself if you want." If he was bothered by the revelation of Lu's activities the night before they met, he didn't show it. "You almost seem opposed to the idea."

The perpetual smirk slid off Gabriel's face. "Well, it's a little weird. You know, you're my agent and he's my friend. Isn't that like a conflict of interests or something?"

"Hardly. It's not like I'm shagging _you_. _That_ would most definitely be a conflict of interests." He leaned back in his seat, checked his phone, sent a quick text, and set his phone back down. "Anything else, or are we simply discussing my sex life?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Actually, I did have something to tell you that I think you'll find… Well, it's good news."

"Don't tell me. _You_ got laid this weekend."

Gabriel scoffed, grinning. "Okay, yes, that _did_ happen. But that wasn't what I was talking about. The news is that I'm writing again."

"Good! See? Didn't I tell you? All you needed was a good fucking."

The writer pitched a Jolly Rancher at Roché's head. It bounced off his forehead and landed on the desk, leaving a red welt, but it just made Roché laugh. "I'm horrified you even said that," Gabriel joked. "And I really don't think it had anything to do with it."

"Ah, so the sex wasn't that good?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes again. "It _was_, but that's not the point. Why is everything about sex with you?"

"Excuse me? I'm not the one who barged in here and started going on about how I couldn't _possibly_ have fucked Lu. No, that was all you." Roché leaned forward, settling his forearms on the desk and lacing his fingers together. "Alright, Speight. So you've started writing again. That's brilliant. How much?"

He shrugged. "Not much, but it's a start. More than I've written since Kali dumped me."

"Alright. Not great, but baby steps, I suppose. Any idea when I can expect an update?"

Gabriel thought it over, tilting his head to the side and looking up as he closed one eye. It was a very peculiar expression. "Well, assuming I'm keeping up at my current pace, probably by the end of the week."

"Good. Brilliant. I'll take that. As you said, it's a start. Certainly it's better than nothing at all." He picked the Jolly Rancher up off his desk, unwrapped it, and popped it in his mouth. "Whatever it is that brought this on, by all means, carry on. I mean, you certainly look happier, anyway."

The shorter blonde nodded. "I feel happier. It could be too early to tell, but I think I'll be okay."

"Of course you will. I never doubted it for a moment." Roché's phone chirped again and after he responded to the new text message, he looked back at Gabriel. "You're still here? I thought you had something to do. Go write, you prat!" he yelled good-naturedly, sending Gabriel jumping up and scurrying toward the door.

To keep him from feeling like he'd gotten off easy, he dug another Jolly Rancher out of his pocket and threw that one at Roché as well. This one pelted his cheek before Gabriel vanished with a mad cackle.

On the way back to his apartment, he casually texted Sam and asked him what time he had to work the next day. They hadn't seen each other since he left the day before—which was understandable, since it _had_ only been about twenty-four hours—but he knew he wanted to see Sam again. Sam made him smile again, and he'd made Sam smile quite a bit. _I don't work tomorrow. Day off. I'll probably be sleeping fairly late, though. Why?_

Gabriel smiled. _Just wondering if you wanted to go out for coffee or something._ He contemplated adding _I understand if you're busy, though_, and then decided against it. Passive-aggressive wasn't really his style. Yes, maybe it was a little forward to ask him out again so soon after their first… well, it wasn't really a date, but first _meeting_. And maybe he was rushing things by starting something so soon after Kali had dumped him. _It's not like this is serious. We make each other laugh. I just need some comfort, that's all. I'm not asking him to go steady or anything._ He knew what he wanted and he wasn't going to apologize for it.

In the end, he sent the text as it was. When the reply came, Sam's message said, _Sure :) Around eleven okay?_

Gabriel's smile widened as he unlocked his door. _Yeah, sounds great. I should be able to drag my lazy ass out of bed in time. Ever heard of the Tipsy Crow?_

_That's at Fifth and Broadway, right?_

_That's the one. I'm guessing you've seen it._

_Yeah, once or twice on patrol. And by that, I mean, I'm staring at it right now._

Gabriel couldn't resist giggling. _Is that too far from your place?_

_Nope, it's great. I'll see you at eleven then._

_Yep. See you tomorrow, Sam._ Gabriel set his phone down and woke his laptop up. He felt that familiar burn to write again, and who was he to resist the call of his returning Muse?

* * *

**The Tipsy Crow is a bar in San Diego. I totally stole it and turned it into a coffee shop in New York.**


	11. Chapter 11

**I seriously hope your feels are braced, okay? I updated the description for this story, so you have been warned. If you have a suicide trigger, just go right to the end.**

**For Mems, who gripped me tight and raised me from Perdition.**

* * *

Gabriel finished up the chapter he was working on, saved the document, and glanced at his watch. It was about ten-thirty, which left him just enough time to walk to the Tipsy Crow and make it by eleven. That was perfect because he didn't feel like wasting twenty bucks on a cab when it wasn't even that bad outside. He could hear a light drizzle of rain from outside, but his leather jacket was warm. Unlike a lot of people he knew, he liked the rain. Besides, he hated being in cars if he could avoid it.

He closed the screen of his laptop and stretched for a moment before grabbing his phone off the table and his jacket and umbrella from the front closet. Patting down his pockets to ensure he had his keys and his wallet, he headed out and to the elevator. When the doors slid open, only one other person was in there. "Morning, Mrs. Braeden," he said cheerfully.

Regina Braeden, with all the serenity of most eighty-four-year-old women, smiled at him. "Good morning, Gabriel. How are you this morning?"

"Pretty good, pretty good. What have you been up to lately?" He couldn't resist cracking a joke. "Entertaining lots of handsome twenty-somethings up in your apartment?"

"Oh, dozens of them," she joked back. "And then they got tired and started complaining, so I decided to pop out and get some cookies."

Gabriel cracked up. "That's a pretty good one. I'll have to remember that."

Her smiled slipped a bit. She seemed to be deciding whether or not to say something. After a few moments, she must have decided to go ahead. "Are… are you sure you're doing alright?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'm not great or anything, but all things considered…" He shrugged. Most of his neighbors were aware that Kali had moved out and why. "Could be worse."

She nodded, seeming to accept that, but Gabriel remained aware of her concerned gaze still on him. Fortunately, the elevator reached the lobby and the doors opened up. He stepped aside to let her off first before following her out.

In the lobby, about a half-dozen people were milling around, looking anxiously at the sky. No one seemed to be leaving and even Mrs. Braeden settled into an armchair, so Gabriel sailed past them. He found it terribly ironic that, in a building filled primarily with artists and other young, hip people, so few found a bit of rain refreshing. But that was fine—he would make it to the Tipsy Crow faster without so many people on the sidewalks. He flipped up the collar of his jacket and ventured outside.

He felt genuinely happy, which was a welcome relief from his past few weeks. For a brief, dizzying time, it felt like he was on the verge of shattering. He didn't know how many more pitying, sympathetic looks he could stand from his friends before he completely fell apart, but at least now, he didn't feel so sensitive to it. It seemed like the pieces were finally starting to come back together. It still hurt, of course, but it wasn't the sharp, jagged kind of pain he felt the night she left. It was a dull ache that could be ignored or forgotten for a few hours at a time. And then there was Sam. Gabriel wasn't sure yet what he felt for the six-foot-four moose-man, but he knew they made each other laugh and that, by itself, was more than enough reason for him to pursue _something_ with the younger Winchester. It was nice to have him close by, comforting to talk to him. That he was great in bed was just an added bonus.

It was just before eleven when he finally ducked into the Tipsy Crow. His jeans were soaked and his hair was stuck to his forehead, but he was smiling. This was one of the best parts about the rain—coming into a warm place after he'd been out in the downpour. He looked around and determined that Sam hadn't arrived yet, which was a relief. He was usually late for things, so being early was nice.

He opted to wait to order anything until Sam arrived. He wasn't honestly all that hungry and if this was some sort of pseudo-date, he at least wanted the opportunity to offer to pay for whatever he got. He supposed that this _was_ basically a date. After all, he'd invited Sam here, and less than seventy-two hours after they'd had sex. If this wasn't an awkward date, he didn't know what was.

Only a few minutes later, the moose-man in question walked in. He, apparently, hadn't walked the whole way because instead of being soaked through, he just looked a little damp. Rain was clinging to his hair and his plaid shirt actually had a few dry patches on it. Gabriel felt his smile break out again and he stood up and bounded over to him. "Hey, Sammy! What's up?"

"Not much." He took in Gabriel's drenched appearance and burst out laughing. "What, did you swim here or something?"

Gabriel cracked up. "Sure did. I think I broke a few Olympic records, too!" When Sam started laughing again, Gabriel threw his arm around his waist. "Hungry? I haven't ordered anything yet."

"Yeah, sure. Sounds good."

Sam ended up ordering a bottle of water and a turkey sandwich, which made Gabriel smile for no reason. He got an iced mocha blended something-or-other with an extra shot of espresso, whipped cream, and chocolate syrup drizzled on top with a chocolate-chip muffin. Sam laughed at him and Gabriel just gave him a mock-offended look. "Like you don't know about my weird eating habits," he joked.

"You are a strange little man," Sam said, still grinning. He affectionately ruffled Gabriel's still-soaked hair. "Hey, I'll be right back. Give me five minutes."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Don't pretend you're not about to duck out the back," Gabriel joked as Sam headed to the bathrooms.

"Anything else?" the barista, an acquaintance of his named Ruby, asked.

"Nah, I'm all set."

She looked at him for a moment, her eyes narrowed. Then she glanced behind her and then reached underneath her register. "Here," she said in an undertone. "I take it you haven't seen page eight yet." In her normal voice, she said, "Ten sixty-one."

Gabriel raised his eyebrows for a moment and dug a ten and a five out of his back pocket. Ruby handed him his change, Sam's water and sandwich, and his muffin. "Your coffee will be ready in a minute."

He had just enough time to set the food down before his coffee was ready. As soon as Ruby called his name, he picked up his drink from the counter, gave her another puzzled look, and went back to the table he picked. It was near the window so he could still watch the rain coming down, although it looked like it was letting up. He sat down and flipped to page eight.

At first, he had no idea what he was looking for. It was the engagement announcement page. _Huh. Maybe Dean popped the question to Cas._ With that cheerful thought in mind, he started scanning. Suddenly, he froze. He was pretty sure his heart had just stopped.

_Gupta-Baldur. Kali Gupta, 26, and Joseph Baldur, 29, are delighted to announce their engagement. The couple has been dating for two years and the wedding is scheduled for October 7, 2013._

Numbly, Gabriel shook his head. _This can't be right._ But right underneath the announcement was a picture of them, and that was definitely Kali. _His_ Kali, up until a few weeks ago. "Two years?" It didn't make any sense!

Except it did. Kali had been cheating on him. And then she dumped him to get engaged to this Joseph Baldur guy. His head was spinning and everything seemed surreal and disjointed. Just like that, every piece of his life that he'd spent the last three weeks carefully reconstructing broke apart in his hands. His breathing was harsh and shallow to his own ears. The pulse in his body seemed heavy and unnatural. Nothing made sense anymore. "She…" He couldn't comprehend it.

Without thinking, he headed for the door.

* * *

Sam looked around the coffee shop in confusion. He'd been gone for five minutes, tops, and Gabriel had disappeared. _What happened?_ He glanced toward a barista who seemed to be watching him. Gabriel had been talking to her, hadn't he? He approached the counter. "Ruby," he said, noting the nametag on her apron. "You know that guy I was talking to earlier? Gabriel?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I know him. Why?"

"Did you see where he went? I mean, I wasn't really expecting him to just vanish or anything."

"Yeah. He left."

"He _left_?"

"Mmhmm. Just a minute ago. Just took off. Didn't even take his coffee." She pointed to the table where he'd been sitting. Sure enough, the cup with Gabriel's coffee was still sitting there next to the newspaper, next to the muffin and his sandwich and water. _What the hell?_

"Well… did he say anything before he left?"

"Not to me. He looked upset, though."

Sam ran his fingers through his hair and groaned. "Alright. Thanks." He went back to their table and pulled out his phone. He called Gabriel's number and froze.

There was a buzzing coming from beneath the newspaper. He lifted it and saw Gabriel's phone. _Damn it._ He pocketed both phones and picked up his sandwich plate and Gabriel's coffee, tucking his water bottle into his jacket. "Can I get a box for this?" he asked, holding up the plate.

Ruby wrapped up the sandwich and put it in a box, and Sam threw the muffin in there. He wasn't sure where Gabriel could have gone, but he'd walked. He couldn't have gone far.

* * *

After Ruby had accidentally-on-purpose let it slip about Kali's engagement, Gabriel had wandered around in sort of a fog. He found himself incapable of paying attention to anything for longer than ten seconds at a time. Everyone who spoke to him had to repeat themselves at least once. Everything in his head had faded to background noise. Everything, save one thought.

_She was cheating on me for two years._ Two years. More than half of their relationship. It had all been a fucking lie, but he'd been so delightfully unaware. Yes, ignorance really was bliss. _How could I be that stupid?_ Late nights, whole weekends at the studio—sure, she'd probably been painting _some_ of the time, but that must have been when she'd been hooking up with her other man.

He wandered around for hours before his feet finally brought him back home. He hadn't eaten anything all day but he wasn't hungry. He felt sick and cold, a kind of bone-deep cold that didn't come from the temperature. What the Hell had happened? Four weeks ago, he'd been happy, in love, almost engaged. And now he was alone. His ex-girlfriend had been cheating on him for _two fucking years_ and he never caught on. Had she been that good at hiding it, or had he just been completely blind to it? How big of an idiot could one person be?

He wasn't consciously aware of ever deciding on a course of action. His subconscious simply took over. He seemed to be watching himself through a screen, seeing himself go home, wander through that apartment where they'd created so many beautiful lies together. He suddenly felt as though he hadn't slept in years. His stunned mantra chased itself around in his head, crashing into the sides and itself. It was driving him crazy. All he wanted was that fucking voice in his head to _shut up_.

And then he knew, suddenly, exactly, what he was doing. Ignoring the annoying chant in his brain, he tore a sheet of paper out of one of Kali's old sketchbooks, one of the many that were half-filled and sitting in her old closet, haunting him. He dug a pen out of his desk, one of the few that hadn't exploded yet. He found the box of sleeping aids in the medicine cabinet. With more care than he'd demonstrated in his life, he emptied every single pill onto the glass coffee table next to a bottle of vodka he'd pulled out of his liquor cabinet. He picked up a fistful, knocked it back, chased it with a generous swig of vodka. For a moment, he paused, and the reality of what he was doing set in. He was going to kill himself. He passed his hand over his eyes and when his fingertips came away wet, he realized he was crying. _Just let it stop. I can't take any more of this. Please… Let it stop._ Tears flowing freely, he repeated the process—fistful of pills chased by a mouthful of vodka—until every single pill was gone and the bottle was half-empty.

He stared at the page in front of him, one or two tears landing on the sheet, languidly spinning his pen around and around. Now he'd done it. It was inevitable, he supposed. He was already decelerating, his brain tripping slower to a halt. He knew he had to send parting words to someone, but who? _Kali?_ No, fuck her. _Cas?_ Not him, either. _Lu?_ He was a good guy, but not the person to whom you wrote one of these.

_Sam?_ Gabriel buried his face in his hands. Oh, God, Sam. His stomach gave an unpleasant lurch as he scribbled Sam's name across the top of the sheet, trying to figure out what to say. Desperation slanted his words and he closed his eyes to try to concentrate. Finally, as the haze in his head began to set in, he managed to scratch out, _I'll miss you._

"Sam," he practically whimpered. Somewhere in the distance, he imagined Sam calling his name. Jesus, why did this moment of clarity have to come _now_? Just when he'd accepted the end, his brain reminded him of something truly good in his life. _Please don't let him blame himself._ He pulled the paper closer and started to write _I'm sorry_ but only got as far as the O. The pen seemed to slip from his fingers. He felt himself fall forward, sending the bottle of Stoli crashing to the floor. His vision faded to black, but he still heard that insistent call of his name from Sam. His heart ached. In his last moments, his head had created one final hallucination to ease him away.

He was wrong. He wouldn't miss Sam. He missed him already. He knew as everything slowed to nothing that he would have given anything just to be able to say goodbye to Sam, to see those hazel eyes one last time. He hadn't even given him an explanation—he'd just run out of the damn shop. Now, he was never going to see Sam again. _Sammy, I'm so sorry._

And then, with the sound of something shattering, it was over.

* * *

**I am so fucking sorry, you guys. I promise that you cannot hate me any more than I hate myself right now.**

**For those of you who couldn't read the chapter, Gabriel found out that Kali had been cheating on him for two years and that she's now engaged to that other man, so he swallowed a bunch of sleeping pills and vodka.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks to everyone for bearing with me. Those of you who follow me on Tumblr are probably dimly aware that I'm going through some heavy crap in my life right now, so I'm using Gabriel's situation to help me work through it.**

**I wrote most of this and Chapter 11 at the same time. I just had about a thousand words to add and to reorder some dialogue, which is why I was able to update this so quickly. I'm glad I did it, too, because all of you have been flailing in the reviews. I don't mean to sound sadistic, but I did giggle a bit at your reviews. IT'S NOT FUNNY AND I DON'T CONDONE SUICIDE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, but some of you get downright silly when you're in panic mode. SORRY, GUYS.**

**Anyway, as much as I like to keep you in suspense, here is Chapter 12.**

**For Mems, who gripped me tight and raised me from Perdition.**

* * *

Sam had knocked for a minute. "Gabe? It's Sam. You in there?" He took a step back from the door when he received no answer. He didn't understand. He could see through the peephole that the lights were on inside. The night they'd slept together, Gabe had turned the lights on as they came in. He wasn't in the habit of leaving lights on in his unoccupied apartment. Gabriel was definitely in there, so why wasn't he answering? He knocked again, louder this time. "Gabe, please. I just want to talk. I'm worried about you." He laughed nervously and then cleared his throat. "Can we just…?"

There was the unmistakable sound of something falling to the floor and shattering. Something glass. Sam's panic instinct kicked in—something was wrong. "Gabriel, answer me or I will break down this door!" He waited for a response. Ten seconds. Fifteen seconds. _Fuck it._ With two swift, well-placed kicks, the door swung open, loose and limp on its hinges. He charged in, not knowing what to expect and wishing he was armed up, just in case.

Upon first glance, everything appeared to be fine. Sam felt the panic subsiding, giving way to embarrassment. _Well, it looks like I owe him a new door._ But then he remembered that crashing, shattering sound. No, that wasn't right. He padded further into the apartment and froze suddenly.

He smelled alcohol. Something clear and liquid was spreading across the hardwood floors. He drew closer, nearer to the sofa, and then he finally saw. His heart skipped a beat.

"Gabe?" he breathed. He didn't want to believe it. There was what looked like a bottle of vodka splintered across the hardwood, littering the whole floor with broken glass. And there was Gabriel, hunched over, slumped across the coffee table. "Gabe!" he shouted, dashing forward. Half numb, he dropped to his knees, blatantly ignoring the glass, and pulled Gabriel off the table and into his lap. "Gabriel, please," he whispered, nearly whimpered. He brushed the smaller man's hair away from his face, searching his face for any flicker. "Gabe?" Those golden eyes stayed shut even as Sam gently shook him. Sam looked up and quickly scanned the room, and his eyes fell on the small cardboard box on the table next to Gabriel. He picked it up and stared at the label. "Oh, Gabe, no! No… no-no-no-no-no!" Shifting the writer in his arms, he dug his phone out of his jacket and hit 911. He kept his gaze on Gabriel, cradling him to his chest, praying that he wasn't too late.

"_911, what's your emergency?"_

"I need an ambulance! My friend is…" He never wanted to have to say these words. "My friend is dying! He—I think he tried to kill himself! He—"

"_What's your address?"_

Sam spilled the name of Gabriel's apartment building, pressing the first two fingers of his freer hand to Gabriel's neck. There was still a pulse, but it was faint and slow. _Please hurry_, he begged silently. "He took a whole bunch of sleeping pills—I don't know how many—and I'm pretty sure he chased them with vodka. You have to hurry," he added, nearly whimpered.

"_The paramedics are on their way."_

The line went dead in his ear. Sam tossed his phone onto the couch and wrapped his other arm around the smaller man. "Please don't die on me, Gabe. Why—?" He choked on a sob. "Why would you do this?" Was it because of him? It didn't make any sense. No, it had to be something else, something he hadn't mentioned. He thought they'd hit it off pretty well, all things considered. He didn't typically sleep with someone he'd met less than forty-eight hours before, but he genuinely liked Gabriel. There was something in his eyes that was sweet. He couldn't figure it out.

Now he was just praying he'd get the chance.

He kept Gabriel tight against him, as if he could keep the writer alive by sheer force of will. He murmured his name, brushed his hair back, rocked him desperately, feeling helpless. What else could he do? The ambulance was on its way and he was only trained in basic first aid. Gabriel was still breathing—softly, shallowly—and his heart was still beating, however weakly, so anything he could possibly do would probably only hurt him. This was why he'd become a cop—so he wouldn't have to feel helpless. But he'd never expected this.

By the time the paramedics arrived, he was almost trancelike. He numbly let the EMTs pull Gabriel out of his vice grip, leaned back against the sofa, and watched dizzily as they strapped him to a cart. One of them was asking him something and he slowly dragged the room back into focus. "Sorry?"

"I need to ask you a few questions about the victim, okay? Can you handle that?"

"Y-yeah. I'll let you know what I know."

"What's his name?"

"Gabe. I mean, Gabriel. Gabriel Speight."

"Date of birth?"

"I… I don't know that. I think he's twenty-seven, though."

"Next of kin?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know that, either."

"Your relationship to Mr. Speight?"

_Jesus._ "He's my friend," he mumbled. It was the easiest explanation. There was no word for their actual relationship, not that he knew how to describe it anyway. What did you call someone who you liked a whole lot, who you had pretty strong romantic feelings for already, who you had sex with once, who you thought maybe, just maybe, might be worth getting into something deep with? There was no label that fit.

"Your name?"

"Sam Winchester."

"Do you know what he took?"

"Best I can guess, a box of sleeping pills and the better part of a fifth of vodka."

"Any idea why he did it?"

Closing his eyes, he sighed. "No. I have no idea."

"Alright, well, they're taking him to the hospital now. We'll take care of him." The paramedic started to walk away, but Sam's head finally kicked back in.

"Hey, just—do you think he'll make it?"

The paramedic shrugged sadly. "Lot of variables. How many pills he took, how much vodka he drank, how long ago he swallowed them, how his body reacts to it, how much he's eaten today…" At Sam's expectant look, he sighed. "I don't know. I give him forty-sixty. Not in his favor. I'm sorry. If I were you, I'd get his next-of-kin info nailed down."

Sam nodded numbly. He knew who would have that information. He grabbed his phone from where it had fallen between the sofa cushions and started dialing.

"Sam?"

"Hey, Cas, listen. Um…" He sighed shakily. "I'm at Gabriel's place right now, and—"

"What are you doing there?" Castiel's voice sounded completely baffled.

"It's—he—we were at a coffee shop today and I think it was a date but I went to the bathroom and when I came back out, he was gone, so—"

"You had a date with Gabriel?" In the background, he heard Dean practically screech, "He did _what_?" and let loose a string of profanities that would have a sailor blushing.

Sam rubbed his temple. "Cas, please, just listen. I'm at Gabriel's apartment right now. He… He tried to kill himself. They're taking him to the hospital right now."

Castiel was silent for several long moments. Sam only knew he was still on the line because he could hear Dean cursing in the background. "Oh, God. I didn't… What happened? What did he do?"

"Sleeping pills washed down with vodka, from the looks of it. They're giving him a forty-sixty chance in favor of him… not making it."

"Hold on. Dean, please, shut up. Gabriel's on his way to the hospital. He attempted suicide." The cursing immediately cut off.

"Wait, what?"

Sam went on. He just wanted this conversation to be over. "I, uh… I'm going to the hospital. I think you should come, too. They need his next-of-kin information and I don't know it." _I don't know anything about him._

"We'll meet you there. Thank you for calling, Sam."

"Y-yeah. No problem." He hung up feeling drained and though he knew he had to get back to his car, he couldn't summon the energy. What if Gabriel didn't make it? What if he would have made it if he'd arrived just a few minutes earlier? "Gabe…" He ran his fingers through his hair and his eyes fell again on the coffee table.

A sheet of paper caught his attention. Out of morbid curiosity, he reached for it and pulled it to him. With a choked sob, he saw that his name was on the top. Just before the end, Gabriel's thoughts had been on him. _Why?_

He rubbed his eyes. There wasn't much on the sheet. Just a few words. _Sam, I'll miss you. I'm so_—and that was it. For a few long minutes, Sam stared at the note, re-reading the half-dozen words scrawled there, so slanted as to be barely legible. He wondered if it was his usual handwriting or if stress had changed it, and then, again, he wondered what could have caused Gabriel to do something like this. It just hit home that Sam didn't know as much about him as he thought—although that shouldn't have surprised him. They'd just met four days ago. There was no reason to expect he knew anything about him. It didn't stop him from feeling lost, though. He didn't know why, but he felt something for Gabriel.

He folded up the note and shoved it into his pocket.

* * *

Dean was in the waiting room when Sam arrived at the hospital. He had his arms crossed, but Sam could tell he was genuinely worried about Gabriel. Sure, they'd squabbled in the past, but they didn't dislike each other. It was more of an affectionate bickering, from what he'd seen and Castiel had said. "Hey," Dean said, standing up the moment he saw Sam.

"Hey. What's going on?"

Dean swallowed, eyes downcast. "He's unconscious right now. They're pumping his stomach I guess. They don't tell me details, obviously, but… Anyway, Cas is in the room with him." He looked up. "Wanna go see him?"

Sam felt himself nodding and followed Dean down a hallway and to an elevator. Unable to keep quiet any longer, he asked, "What's going on with him? You know him better than I do. I mean, you have to know—"

"It's complicated." Dean bit on his lip for a moment, hitting the up button for the elevator a few more times. "As far as I know, his girlfriend dumped him a few weeks ago. He was pretty serious about her, I guess, since Cas said he was all set to propose to her and everything." The Winchesters stepped onto the elevator and Dean smacked the button for the fourth floor. "I thought he was doing okay with it. I mean, I know he was upset about it, obviously, but all things considered, I didn't think he'd do something like this. If he was still freaking out about it, you'd think he would have tried this when it first happened, not three weeks later. I don't know, Sammy. Maybe something happened to set him off." He let out a huff and rubbed his eyes. "How late do you think you're gonna stay? You have work tomorrow?"

Sam shook his head. "Today and tomorrow are my days off this week. I'm… I think I'm gonna stay as long as possible."

Dean nodded thoughtfully. The doors slid open and he led the way out and down another hallway. "So. You went on a date with him?"

"I… Hell, Dean, I don't even know if that's what you'd call it. Yesterday, he invited me out for coffee this morning, and I showed up and I went to the bathroom for like five minutes. I came out and he was gone. No explanation. He left his phone, too. I guess it was supposed to be a date, but… I don't know."

Dean nodded again, looking deep in thought. He knocked on a closed door for a moment, and then opened it up. Castiel was sitting in a chair across from a hospital bed, looking tired and drawn. He looked up as Sam and Dean entered. "Hello, Sam."

"Hey, Cas." Sam pushed back the curtain around the bed. Gabriel's eyes were still closed and he was hooked up to more machines than Sam could count. He was pale and Sam felt a nearly overwhelming wave of sadness. "How's he doing?"

"He's been stabilized." Castiel's voice sounded normal on the surface, but underneath it was a tremor of worry. Gabriel was his best friend, though. It was understandable. "It's looking better, but the doctor says he isn't out of the woods yet. He hasn't regained consciousness, either. It's just a matter of waiting."

So the three of them settled in to wait.

* * *

The steady beeping was almost soothing. It was constant and calming. He felt himself drifting, but that beeping kept him tethered. He felt like a helium balloon tied to a child's wrist, slowly bobbing and nudged by the lightest breeze, but still fixed in place. It was nice to float.

And then he heard voices, or rather _a_ voice. It murmured into his ear, repeating his name and giving him something else to cling to. He trusted that voice above anything else. He strained for it, struggled to follow it. It kept speaking to him, brought him back to Earth, and he found himself chasing it. He ran faster and faster until he almost flew, charging toward the voice that was growing steadily more focused, closer, more desperate. _I'm on my way! Keep talking!_ He prayed the voice kept speaking to him. He was afraid of what would happen if it stopped. He would be lost, completely and irrevocably. The void threatened to close in on him and the only safe path, the only assurance that he would make it, was that voice whispering to him.

He found him staring up at the sheer face of a cliff. The voice seemed to be coming from the top. Without a second thought, he started climbing. The voice was his guide and he carefully picked his way along the wall, hand over hand. Inch by inch, he hunted for hand-holds and foot-holds, somehow placing his hands just right to reach them. Finally, the top was barely two feet away and he reached up to find some purchase on the ground.

And then, out of nowhere, he felt strong fingers wrapped around his hand, pulling him up. He held on tight, allowing himself to be pulled up, and his feet found a flat surface to stand on, but the hand still held his, tighter now. He was so sure he recognized that grip, but he couldn't see the figure for the sun in his eyes. He squinted to see if he could make out any features, and suddenly his eyes flew open. "Sammy?"

Those hazel eyes, wide with something Gabriel couldn't decipher, were fixed on him intently. "Gabe!" Sam gasped. Tears started swimming in his eyes but there was a smile on his face, bigger than Gabriel had ever seen before, and then Sam let go of his hand and his arms were tightly around Gabriel.

"Were you talking to me?" Gabriel asked softly. He returned the hug as best he could, but he felt weak.

He felt Sam nodding into his shoulder. "Yeah. I didn't know if you could hear me, but…"

"Yeah. I heard you." He closed his eyes. "I think it helped." As Sam finally released him but grabbed onto his hand again, Gabriel looked around. He was definitely in a hospital, and across from his bed, Castiel and Dean were leaning up against each other, fast asleep. Dean was drooling on Castiel's shoulder, but both of them—and Sam, as well—had worry etched all over their faces.

"I… We were told that if you woke up, we should call the nurses," Sam said softly. His eyes never left Gabriel's face; he pushed a few stray strands of hair back from his face. "I'll be right back, okay?"

Gabriel nodded as Sam reluctantly let go of his hand again. He stared up at the ceiling, listening to Sam's footsteps retreating. He didn't know what had happened, but that look that Sam had given him… He felt like an idiot, but the tightness in his chest was letting up.

He'd survived. _Thank God._

* * *

***exhales* Is everyone okay? Okay, good. Only eight more chapters until I'm done with this!**

**"The Reckoning" will be the next update. It will be stupidly fluffy, so everyone can use it as a vacation.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thanks so much to everyone who's started following this story or favorited it or left a review. I appreciate your patience - I've had such a tough time after finishing The Family Business - writing 80,000 words in four weeks takes a lot out of you, honestly.**

**Special thanks to a guest named Chloe, nieka1995901, Expecto-Prongs, Sunkissed Lavender, CharmingKarma, Kid'sDarkWolf, MaTcHBoOkPoEt, madclifton, Keefer, Mello18, Sexy. Lil. Emo, aLoggedInReader, Aoi Faith, alias093001, potterbuncker, and Kathrin J Pearl for reviewing since I posted chapter 12. Again, sorry this took so long, but I needed a break after cranking out that monster of a fanfiction!**

* * *

Gabriel supposed he knew it was coming. One doesn't wake up after a suicide attempt and just walk out the door. There were the inevitable visits from psychologists and psychiatrists, as well as a few nurses and doctors stopping by to monitor his vitals. Right after Sam went to tell the nurses' station that Gabriel had woken up, the seemingly-endless procession of professionals began. He knew they meant well, but it was still frustrating. He just wanted them to tell him he was good to go home and let whatever outpatient treatment they had in mind run its course.

And he was certain this would mean he had to get a therapist, but he wasn't worried about it. Not too much, anyway. What had happened… it had been a long time in coming. A lot of frankly shitty things had happened recently, not the least of which was his breakup with Kali, and he'd shoved it down. Sure, he'd talked about it to people, but aside from the night it happened, he hadn't really allowed himself to think about it for more than a few seconds at a time. It was almost no wonder it had finally just boiled over into something corrosive and dangerous.

Castiel and Sam spent the whole first night (and Castiel also spent the second) with him. The nurses ordinarily wouldn't have made an exception for them, but one of the doctors thought it would be a good idea if he wasn't completely alone. She figured that having a friend or two might make him feel less isolated, which he appreciated. Even if they weren't talking, he was glad at least one of them—whichever it was, because Castiel or Sam would leave for an hour or two to do what, he didn't know, but he understood they had lives and things they needed to do—was pretty much always with him. In fact, the only time one of them wasn't there was whenever one of the psychologists stopped by. That was at the psychologists' request—they wanted to talk to him one-on-one, without any outside pressure or judgment or whatever.

That first day, Sam didn't ask what happened. For that, Gabriel was grateful. He wasn't sure how to explain to him about Kali. He _wanted_ to tell Sam, but he just had to figure out the best way to say, "I was almost engaged three weeks ago until she dumped my ass for the guy she was fucking on the side for two years." He knew Sam would probably feel bewildered by that information and used, like he'd just been Gabriel's rebound. And he supposed, technically, that's what it had been, but it didn't _feel_ like a rebound. Not to him. Yes, they probably shouldn't have had sex as soon as they had (he had definitely rushed it there), but he knew he felt something deeper for him.

In fact, the first time he verbally acknowledged to someone who wasn't on the hospital staff what had happened, it was to Castiel, Lu, and Roché.

Castiel had been dozing in a chair across from Gabriel's bed when the door burst open and Lu and Roché sailed in. _Damn._ Already, he could see the problem with his high school best friend fucking his agent—they were plenty annoying on their own. Together, they would be unbearable. Although right now, they both looked more concerned than anything. Roché definitely appeared stressed out, and Lu looked like he couldn't decide what he wanted to do more: hug Gabriel or hit him. He settled for asking the obvious question. "Dude. What the Hell happened?"

Gabriel gave him a tired smile and waved at them both. "Hey, guys, how are you?"

Roché sighed and ruffled his fingers affectionately through Gabriel's hair. "Fine. How are you, you bloody idiot?"

"'m alright. Can't complain too much, I guess."

Lu, who had taken a moment to acknowledge Castiel (who looked stunned to see him), turned back to Gabriel. "Great. Awesome. _Now_ do you mind explaining what the Hell happened? I mean…" The harsh look in his eyes softened. "Fuck, Gabe. I almost had a heart attack when I heard you… you know?"

Gabriel smiled sadly and nodded. "Yeah. I know. I'm sorry, guys. I…" He anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought I was okay with the whole Kali thing. And then yesterday morning, I found out she got engaged."

The shock in the room was almost tangible. "Damn," Lu said, looking like he'd just been smacked in the face with a folding chair. "Um, wow. That's a little… sudden."

"Apparently not," Gabriel responded bitterly. "They've been dating for two years."

"But you—_oh_." Now Lu looked _really_ angry. "She doesn't deserve you, Gabe. You know that, right? She's… fuck, they haven't invented a word foul enough to describe her."

Castiel and Roché both looked stunned, too. "Wow, Gabe. I had no idea," Castiel said softly. "Why didn't you say anything before you… before you tried to kill yourself?"

Gabriel half-shrugged, purposely avoiding looking at any of them. "I reacted badly, okay? I don't have a good explanation. I just lost it. It was a really dark moment. I'd basically just found out that the last two years of my life had been a fucking lie. That's kind of hard to swallow, understand?"

Castiel slowly nodded. "Does Sam know about Kali?"

Gabriel sighed and finally shook his head. "No. I haven't told him about her yet."

"Who's Sam again?" Roché asked, and before Gabriel could answer, Lu and Castiel were both volunteering answers. Castiel's was significantly tamer; he said, "Dean's younger brother." Lu, though, said, "This guy that Gabe's obsessed with."

"I'm not obsessed with him," Gabriel hissed, but Roché appeared not to hear him.

"Is he the person you fucked this weekend?"

As Gabriel rolled his eyes and Castiel chuckled, Lu suddenly appeared intrigued. "That's a good question. _Did_ you fuck him this weekend?"

"Yes, okay? Now can we drop the subject? It's really not that important." He also didn't like entertaining the realization that he was the only person in the room that Lu _hadn't_ fucked and there were now discussing someone else that he _had_ fucked. He wanted this particular conversation to go away in a hurry.

Lu laughed like a madman for a minute before regaining control. "Okay. Well. _Are_ you gonna tell him?"

"Yeah, I am. I just… need to figure out how. And when."

Lu nodded solemnly. "Alright. Hey, listen, if you ever need Kali to disappear, I know a guy who knows a guy who can make that happen," he added with a smirk.

Gabriel laughed softly, not quite sure if Lu was joking or not. Roché and Castiel looked equally confused. It was really hard to tell with Lu's sense of humor sometimes. Either way, he decided to assume he was being serious at this point. "I'm okay. I don't really like her right now, but I don't want her to die or anything."

"Hey, hey, hey," Lu said, holding up his hands. "No one said 'die' or 'kill' or anything like that. I just said 'disappear.'" His grin widened a bit. "Without a body, no one can prove anything."

"Um. Thanks, I guess. But I'm alright." He glanced at Roché, and his agent looked slightly alarmed, but he relaxed as Castiel quickly changed the subject.

"So how much longer do they think you'll be here?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Another day, at least. I know they're going to want to make sure I'm physically alright before they let me go home. And they want me to get a therapist, of course."

"So they're not putting you in the psych ward?" Roché asked tentatively.

Gabriel half-smiled. "I believe the politically-correct term is 'loony bin.' But no, they're not. They seem to think I don't require that kind of intense psychiatric help."

"What about you? Do you think you need intense psychiatric help?"

He mulled it over for a minute before shaking his head. "No. I'm upset, but I'm not crazy. I'll… I'll be okay. I just need some time."

* * *

Sam spent nearly every free moment he could in Gabriel's hospital room for reasons he couldn't quite explain. He did leave once in awhile to stretch his legs whenever Castiel happened to be there as well—neither of them wanted to leave him alone, and Gabriel seemed to appreciate the company. But sometimes, being in there all day had him going a little nuts. He couldn't imagine how Gabriel managed it.

On one of his laps around the hospital, he paused in front of the gift shop near the cafeteria. He'd seen it several time before, and he'd often contemplated going in. He wasn't quite sure what he'd find—and he couldn't be sure if Gabriel was a stuffed-animal person, although it seemed safe to say he probably was—but this time, he finally went in to look around.

He skipped right past the cards section. He knew for sure that, if he did decide to buy something, it wouldn't be one of those. He contemplated a pink balloon with the words "It's a girl!" on it as a joke, but decided against it at the last minute. It wasn't that he thought Gabriel wouldn't laugh, because he had a feeling the short blonde would crack up. He just wasn't sure how Gabriel would explain it to anyone else who dropped in. He examined the shelves of stuffed dogs and cats and pigs and bears and other toys but didn't see anything that really interested him or screamed, "Gabe would love this!" to him.

He found a shelf full of paperback books near the back and started looking over the titles. A few looked interesting, but one entitled _Hammer of the Gods_ looked particularly enticing. He'd never heard of the author before—someone called L.K. Norse—but the synopsis looked interesting enough so he brought it up to the register.

The line to check out had ten other people in it, so he started reading as he waited. From the first page, he was hooked. He didn't even notice the line moved forward until the person behind him gave him a quick poke in the small of his back. He spun around to shoot a glare at whoever it was, but ended up blinking in surprise, instead. "Oh, hey, Lu. What's up?"

Lu shrugged. "Not much. Gabe said you were around here somewhere, so I figured I'd sneak up on you. Looks like I did a good job, too." He nodded toward the book in Sam's hands. "What'cha got there?"

"Just… I don't know, it looked interesting," Sam said sheepishly. "It's called _Hammer of the Gods_."

Lu suddenly looked fascinated. "Oh, I read that back when it first came out." He grinned mischievously. "I'm not much of a reader, but I couldn't put it down. I was pleasantly surprised. Sequel hasn't come out yet, though."

"Huh." Sam glanced at the cover for a moment. "Yeah, actually, it's really good so far. I mean, I'm only like ten pages in, but I'm already hooked."

Lu nodded, still grinning. "Yep, that was pretty much my reaction, too. I think you're gonna like it. Although it really has a good mix of quite a few genres so I think there's hardly any person who wouldn't like it."

"Good. At least I know I'm not wasting my money then."

Lu nodded again. "Yeah. Just…" He looked highly amused about something. "When you get to the end, hold onto your butt."

"What, plot twist?"

"Something like that. I don't want to give away the ending or anything." He clapped Sam on the shoulder. "I'm heading back up to the room. You gonna be up after this?"

"Yeah." A quick shadow of suspicion suddenly crossed his mind. "Why?" he asked cautiously.

Lu suddenly looked highly offended. It was so extreme that Sam knew it was just an act. "I'm not hitting on you, Sam. Gabe already said he liked you, and I'm assuming you like him since you were apparently on a date with him the other day. Besides, I'm here with my… whatever."

"Your whatever?"

"Yeah." Lu bit his lip for a moment and furrowed his brow. "I don't know if he's really my boyfriend or what, but I like him, so…" He shrugged. "We'll see." He suddenly grinned. "Besides, Sammy, I don't do sloppy seconds."

Sam couldn't suppress a laugh. "In that case, it's a wonder you haven't fucked the whole city."

"Who said I haven't?" Lu joked, slipping out of line and exiting the store. He threw a wave over his shoulder as he went, and Sam shook his head, grinning.

As soon as he paid the twelve dollars for the book, he shoved it into his jacket pocket and headed back toward Gabriel's room.

* * *

**It was supposed to be a bit longer than this, but...well, I don't have many chapters left. Next to be updated will be Blue Archangel, so give me another day or two and you'll have your wish!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Guys, I am so fucking sorry this update took so long. I've had a lot of things going on (flew to Georgia, drove back up to Michigan, hanging out with friends, etc.) and my mental state hasn't been great for writing (especially this story; long explanation there). This chapter was originally going to contain smut but it's being pushed back to the next chapter which works out a little better since the original chapter 16 was a little lacking in the plot department and now some original chapter 15 points are being pushed to 16 so... Anyway.**

**Also, a user named CastielsBlackWings is translating "Struck by You" into German! I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS, OKAY? THIS WILL BE THE FIRST TIME ANYONE'S FELT THE NEED TO TRANSLATE ANY OF MY FICS! *quietly squees in the corner***

**Many thanks to aLoggedInReader, Sexy. Lil. Emo, HellsTheTwerd, alias093001, EllaMichelle, kb18142, Kathrin J Pearl, Keefer, BookwormI, Macbeth's Mistress, and a guest named Chloe for your reviews to last chapter, and thanks again for all your patience!**

**For those of you reading "Blue Archangel," I hope to have that update written in the next few days, but I return to San Diego on the first, so it may be January before it gets finished and posted.**

* * *

In the following three days that it took for Gabriel to finally be discharged from the hospital, Sam raced through _Hammer of the Gods_. Lu had been right. He'd been hooked from the beginning, and the plot dragged him along like a fish on a lure. The main difference between him and the metaphorical fish was that the fish was heading toward inevitable doom and he was just being reeled toward whatever surprise twist ending Lu had hinted at.

But the final chapter held no unduly shocking revelation, certainly nothing warranting the devious smirk the strawberry blonde had given him. Sam frowned at the final page of text before flipping the last few pages of the book.

_What the…?_ On the very last page was a smiling black-and-white photograph of someone distinctly familiar. He was looking off toward the left side of the picture, laughter on his face. Even though the picture was grayscale, those eyes still looked bright and golden.

It was Gabriel. A little younger-looking, perhaps, or maybe the original had been retouched, but it was definitely him. Sam felt his heart give a little lurch. _Oh._

Maybe that explained how what he wrote had such a captivating quality. Looking back, maybe it should have been obvious—Gabriel _had_ said he was an author, after all, and Lu had been unnecessarily amused when he saw the book—but it hadn't connected.

Sam couldn't help smiling slightly. He started reading the "About the Author" section, but suddenly his face fell.

_L.K. Norse lives in New York City with his girlfriend. This is his first novel._

_His girlfriend?_ His gut twisted unpleasantly. Well. This wasn't quite how he wanted to find out about that. Although it seemed like maybe, whoever she was, she wasn't in the picture anymore (he hadn't seen her or even heard her mentioned, and he figured at least Dean would warn him about something like that), he wondered what the deal was. The book was fairly recent. If they _had_ broken up, it couldn't have been long ago.

He didn't know what to think. After all, it was bound to be awkward to discover that the guy you'd slept with a week and a half before had a girlfriend or a very recent ex-girlfriend. What was he supposed to do with that information?

The next time he saw Gabriel at the hospital, shortly before he was discharged, he found himself looking at the golden-haired man differently. This guy laid up in a hospital bed from a suicide attempt was the same person who'd written _Hammer of the Gods_, the same person who'd had him laughing more in twenty minutes than he normally did in a week. It seemed impossible, and Gabriel somehow sensed the shift, however slight, in Sam's attitude.

"What's up?" he asked softly, and Sam was suddenly relieved that Castiel had ducked out for coffee.

"I read your book," Sam said. He swallowed. "I mean, when I picked it up, I didn't know it was yours. I didn't know until the end, actually."

Gabriel seemed to blush a bit, but it must have been Sam's imagination because it was gone as quickly as it came. "Wow, was it that bad?" he joked, incorrectly interpreting Sam's hesitation.

"No," he said quickly, "it wasn't bad at all. Actually, I loved it."

Gabriel grinned. "Okay, then what's the problem?"

Sam chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment. "Just…" He struggled for the words. There was really no easy way to talk about this. He finally half-asked, "Your girlfriend?"

The author's face fell. "Kali dumped me."

More questions bubbled up in Sam's head—_When? Why? Is he okay? Obviously not, how stupid_—and he tried to decide what to ask and how to ask it. He was caught between burning curiosity and not wanting to push Gabriel if he didn't want to volunteer any more information.

"You can ask," he said.

Sam smiled nervously. "Is that why you… ended up here?"

Gabriel sighed. "Yes and no." He ran his hand through his hair. "It was… Well, she broke up with me about three weeks ago. I was doing okay with it, all things considered." He glanced up to meet Sam's gaze. "She left me on our three-year anniversary, which she'd forgotten about anyway. I, um, I was actually doing fairly well with all that. I mean, it really sucked, but all things considered, I was okay. For a little while, anyway."

Sam waited a beat. When it seemed like Gabriel wasn't going to continue, he asked, "So what happened?"

There was definitely something sad behind those golden eyes. "That morning we had, well, what _should_ have been a date—sorry about that, by the way," he added quickly, "I found out that, um, she was engaged."

Sam blinked. "Your ex?"

"Yeah. To some guy she'd been dating for two years."

"But how—?" Then it clicked. "Oh. Oh, wow."

"Yeah. I reacted badly. I know I fucked up a lot, but…" Gabriel was staring down at the blanket, and there was a faint tremor in his voice. "I didn't know what else to do. I'm a fucking mess, Sammy. I never intended to get you involved in this train wreck and I'm sorry for it."

Sam's chest tightened. Gabriel somehow blamed himself for everything. He was the one making apologies. That was the most fucked-up aspect of this situation. The suicide attempt was a close second, but Sam wasn't the one to whom he should have been apologizing. "No, Gabe. You didn't ask for any of this. Honestly, you're right—you definitely reacted badly—but you don't have to apologize to me. And you like me, at least a little, or else you wouldn't have addressed that note to me—"

"You found that?"

Sam blinked. "Yeah. I found _you_. You didn't know that?"

Gabriel shook his head. "I kind of thought it was Cas."

"No, it was me."

"Sorry," he murmured.

"Gabe, please stop apologizing to me, okay? I'm glad I found you. If I didn't, you might not have survived. And like I said, I'm guessing you like me a bit, so… I guess, if you need anything from me, let me know."

The writer appeared to think for a few moments. "Can I just… explain this? Yeah, okay? I like you. But this whole situation is incredibly fucked right now. I just want you to know that what happened… it didn't feel like a rebound to me, and I'm really hoping that that's not what it felt like to you. I mean, that that's what I thought."

Sam waited a beat. "I get that. And it's okay. And it's not what I thought at all. But I think that you're going through a lot of crap right now and maybe you should be concentrating more on yourself and less on me, okay?"

Gabriel was quiet for a minute before nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right." He flashed Sam a quick, shaky smile. "Thanks."

* * *

Gabriel went home early the next day. When he got back to the apartment, he expected to see a thin coat of dust on every flat surface and a general mess in the living room, but that wasn't the case. For one thing, everything was perfectly clean, save a few wood splinters near the front door. For another, the door was completely different. He didn't know how, but it was definitely different.

That probably explained the new key that had been waiting for him in the lobby when he got in. Gabriel had insisted on going back in himself, shaking off Castiel at the main entrance. It was strange to finally walk in, feeling dozens of pairs of eyes on him only to look around and only see about four people, none of whom were looking at him.

He paced his apartment for about an hour, not really sure what he should be doing, before his stomach gave a loud rumble. Ordinarily, at lunchtime on a Tuesday, he'd make pancakes, but he wasn't feeling up to what would inevitably be a huge production just for a fifteen-minute meal, so he made a sandwich. After he ate, he stared down his laptop for nearly another hour. Realizing he probably wasn't going to get any writing done today, he welcomed the distraction of Castiel's phone call.

"How are you doing?" Castiel asked the moment Gabriel answered.

"Um. It's weird here. Quiet." He had grown used to the steady beeping from various machines and people around him and nurses and doctors popping in nearly hourly. Being completely on his own again was jarring. He inexplicably wanted to spend time with Sam, but the younger Winchester had to work.

For the first time, Gabriel wished he couldn't just work from home.

"Hey, quick question. What exactly happened to my door? I came in the building and there was a new key waiting for me and my front door is different."

"Yes. Well, it was broken down."

He didn't know what to make of this information. "The medics broke it down?"

"No. It was Sam. He… he was the one who found you, remember?"

"Oh." He remembered, but the ramifications of that fact hadn't occurred to him until now. "Yeah, I remember." That would certainly explain how Sam knew about the note. It also meant that he'd been the one to call 911. He'd been panicked and frightened, and Gabriel had put him through that. It was a bitter revelation.

"Gabriel, stop."

"Stop what?" He was unaware of having said anything.

"I know what you're thinking. Any of us would have been horrified to discover what happened. Honestly, I think Sam might have been the best-prepared of any of us to deal with it. He's a police officer. He knows how to suppress the panic reaction."

Gabriel chuckled nervously. "You think you would have flipped out if you'd found me?"

"Yes. I believe I would have completely broken down and not thought to call an ambulance until later. Which is why I'm a journalist, not a cop."

"Thanks. I think. Wait, no, that actually sucks."

"I agree. Which is why I meant what I said about Sam. I know it's different when it's someone you know, but he kept his head better than anyone else would have."

"Yeah. I just wish it hadn't happened, that's all." His hospital stay had given him a bit of clarity and, honestly, he felt like an idiot for his childish response. Now he was just trying to focus on getting his life back together and maybe starting over with Sam.

"I have to agree with that sentiment. We all do."

Gabriel ran his fingers through his hair. "Thanks. For everything, I mean. I guess I was a bit selfish, huh?"

"Well, think of it this way. If you'd actually died, who would have finished the _Gods_ series?"

Gabriel pulled a face and laughed mockingly. "Very funny, asshat."

"Speaking of which, how are things with _Thunder of the Gods_?"

"Not good. Haven't written a damn thing since I got back. But it's still early," he added quickly. "I mean, I just got home a few hours ago."

"True. It will probably be some time before you're able to get back to your routine."

"Yeah."

"So when is your first appointment with your therapist?"

The blonde shuddered. "Friday. Not sure how I feel about it."

"Save it for the therapist," Castiel joked, and Gabriel raised an eyebrow even though he knew his friend couldn't see him.

"That was a really bad joke."

"My apologies. I realize my humor can be a bit dark."

"No, dark humor is fine. That was just terrible, that's all."

Castiel just laughed.

* * *

Gabriel finally ended up re-watching _Arrested Development_ on Netflix for the rest of the day, which was time well-spent (in his opinion). He made himself about four bowls of Easy Mac for dinner and answered the occasional text from Castiel or Lu or Roché and one from Sam. He promised Roché he'd stop by the office the next day and attempted to decline Lu's invitation for free drinks on Saturday night if he dropped by Perdition. He wouldn't give a definite "no" yet because it was only Tuesday and by Saturday, he just might need an excuse to get out of the apartment, but he'd want someone to go with him as well (someone besides a bartender).

As soon as Sam was off work at nine-thirty, Gabriel's thumb hovered over the call button to his cell. Fifteen minutes later, he finally gathered his courage and made the call.

"Hey, Gabe, what's going on?"

Already he was feeling like a fool, although he wasn't sure why. "Not a whole lot. Just Netflix and Easy Mac. You?"

"Just got off work, so I'm going home to sleep for like sixteen hours. Hey, how was your first day back?"

He bit his lip. "Uneventful. I'm gonna go see Roché tomorrow, I guess. I'm still not quite sure how I got roped into that," he added with a quick laugh.

Sam laughed too, but whether it was from genuine amusement or just in response to Gabriel's, the writer couldn't be sure. "Doesn't sound like it'll be so bad. He's probably just worried about you."

"That, I don't doubt."

"We all are," Sam added quietly.

"Hey, I'm okay. Now. Sort of. I mean, I'll be fine."

The younger Winchester took a moment to respond. "Yeah, I think so, too." Gabriel imagined he could hear the smile in his voice. "Look, if you ever need to get out of the apartment, just give me a call, and if I'm not at work, I'll come up with something, okay?"

"Is that a real offer, or are you just being polite?" Gabriel couldn't help the light teasing, but there was a note of genuine curiosity behind the question.

Sam laughed again. "No, that's a real offer, Gabe. I want to do what I can to help you out. Whatever you need me for, I'm here."

_Wow._ Castiel had basically said as much to him, as had Lu. They'd known him for years, though. Sam had only known him for a few weeks and they'd had sex once and his older brother happened to be dating one of Gabriel's best friends, but he was still just as anxious to see him return to normal, to get back on track. He wished he'd realized earlier how amazing his friends were. He'd been stupid. "Thanks, Sammy. I appreciate that."

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing. And I'll probably take you up on that offer before the week is over."

"Good. I mean, you know, at least you're planning on getting out at some point," Sam said quickly.

"Yeah. Well, look, I'll let you get back to getting home, but I'll probably talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure. I have the afternoon shift so if you call in the morning and I don't answer, it's because I'm asleep."

"Yeah, not a problem. Bye."

"Yeah, bye."

As soon as Sam hung up, he nearly smacked his forehead. Gabriel had called him, which made his heart swell unnecessarily, but he'd had to remind himself several times that he was trying to keep things platonic for the time being. Right now, it was more important that Gabriel get back on with writing and healing after Kali.

And if, after all that, Gabriel decided he still wanted to try this thing with Sam, he'd be right there.

* * *

**I've been watching _Arrested Development_ on Netflix. It's amazing and I discovered the sources of two gifs. It makes me happy.**


	15. Sorry to say this

Hey, everyone. You'll notice there's no chapter here. Long story short, I don't like my characterizations of Gabriel or half of the rest of the cast. I don't like what happens with Gabriel. I like where the story is going, but I don't like how we'll get there, so I'm discontinuing this fic.

The general plot (author overcoming writer's block with the help of a new love) is still one I'm interested in, though. Keep your eyes peeled for a new fanfiction with the name "Finishing Touches" in a few months, a redux and reworking of this story.

I'll keep this update and story up for one week before I delete it. Thanks for reading so far! (And I reserve the right to change my mind later.)


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